


Not So Internal Conflict

by aperry33



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Castiel, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Ass Play, Bottom Dean, Fluff and Smut, Gay Panic, Hurt Dean, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, John Winchester Being an Asshole, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Omega Dean, Omega Verse, Panic Attacks, Pregnant Dean, Protective Castiel, Rimming, Top Castiel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-24
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2018-04-06 00:44:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 43
Words: 213,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4201395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aperry33/pseuds/aperry33
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The universe seriously hated Dean Winchester. Around every corner, something was waiting to ruin his day/week/month/year/life. Ever since he'd presented it had been a losing uphill battle. Until someone came along to help him carry his heavy load.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

_Prologue_

He was fucked.

He was _so_ fucked.

He was fucked from the moment he first drew breath, kicking and screaming into this crazy, _unfair_  world.

That young, no one knew what he’d been, what he’d eventually become. Alpha, Beta, Omega. There was no choice in the matter, only genetics and if the man up stairs- if you believed in that kind of thing- decided he really did not like you.

He would never have chosen this for himself.

In hindsight, he knew this to be true, but that didn’t stop his resentful thoughts in any way, shape, or form.

Because come fifteen, his whole world had changed drastically.

His barely thought of goals for the future, the way his father fucking looked a him, and even his perception of his self came crashing down around him like a big ‘fuck you’ from the universe.

He’d been groomed since he could walk to become an Alpha. His father was one, his grandfather, great -grandfather. He was the only male to present as an omega in a long line of very dominant, very… _A_ _lpha_ like Winchesters. His little, do-gooder, chick-flick-moment lover, brother was even an Alpha for christ’s sake.

But he’d somehow missed the mark by about a thousand.

His father had proudly taught him to shoot, had coached him in fixing up car’s at his Uncle Bobby’s garage, gave his opinion on Dean's choice of each and every girl he brought around that particular week, and had hinted none too subtly about him following in his foot steps as a cop once he’d popped his knot and finished high school.

Except he didn’t pop his knot.

He went into heat.

One second everything was fine, the next he was stumbling out of his room in the middle of the night feeling like he was burning up.

He was so confused, and it hurt so bad. He'd hoped his dad would help him- tell him everything was going to be okay.

Dean would never forget the look on John's face when Dean's scent finally hit him.

His father looked like he’d been punched in the gut and the face. Simultaneously.

Dean hadn’t been able to stop shaking, hadn’t been able to stop the stuff soaking the back of his sweat pants, while his dad sent him back into his room without looking him in the eye.

“There’s nothing to do for it now Dean. Just go back to bed, and don’t come out till you’re done for christ’s sake. You’ll stink up this place real fuck’in quick. I’ll get suppressants tomorrow, and this shit won’t happen again,” John had said, shaking his head and heading to his room. 

Right before the man had slammed the door he heard his dad mutter under his breath, " _-can't believe my son is a bitch."_

The tears started then and they wouldn't stop.

There was nothing to do but curl himself into a ball and pray that this whole fucking thing was a nightmare.

That had been the worst night of his life.

Dean had never paid much attention in his health class, especially not to the bits about omega sex-ed. Yeah, he was as interested as any dude about hot omega chicks, but he’d figure the ins and outs the fun way, not the boring text-book way. He’d been so fucking sure he’d be an alpha.

The thought that he wouldn’t be hadn’t crossed his mind. He had worried a little bit about presenting as a beta once, but being a male omega was still kind of a commodity, that he hadn’t put any real thought into it. He’s sure if he had, he would have been fucking terrified.

Because omegas were docile, sweet, and submissive. He knew that much. They also needed a strong alpha in their life to take care of them. But that was supposed to be him! His roll was supposed to be the protector, the bread winner, not some delicate flower who got off on some dude on some dude on a power trip!

And he liked girls- thank you very much! Not once has he thought about switching teams, or even looked at a dude the wrong way. He wasn’t homophobic or anything, but he wasn’t about to start fawning over men because his biology was now tricked into thinking he should.

At fifteen, Dean wasn’t exactly a virgin. He’d lost his virginity a year ago, and had since kept up a “healthy” stream of more than willing chicks. He freak’in loved sex. He was _good_ at sex. But not _gay_ sex. He knew how it worked in theory, but had never thought about it with regards to himself.

Plus, there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d be on the… receiving end. His butt was an exit only. He would never relinquish power to someone else. Never let anyone demean him in that way. He wasn’t weak. He wasn't  _this._

That was a huge part of why he was so horrified. He was lost. Overwhelmed to the point of severe distress. And he could smell it permeating his room.

_Omega in distress._

His ass had hurt so bad that night. It throbbed and burned, and wouldn’t stop _leaking_. Dean ended up sobbing in the bath- tub filled with cold water for the majority of the night, only retiring to bed once he was too exhausted to hold his head up anymore.

 He couldn’t be more ready for this nightmare to end.

 

 

The next day, his father had kept his word, slipping a thin, long box of suppressants under the door to Dean who could only stare from his spot huddled on the bed.

His whole body ached. He’d thrown off his soiled comforter and sheets and he sat shaking with his arms around himself. He’d barely been able to sleep. He’d thought it had all been a fucking horrible dream. But the puddle of slick around him thrust him into the cold reality that this was now his life. There was no going back.

“Don’t be a pussy, Dean,” his father’s voice came, dripping with disdain, “take your birth control and we can move on.”

It was like a slap in the face.

Scrambling out of bed, snatching the pills off the floor, he agreed with his dad.

It was time to move on.

The old Dean Winchester was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

_Twelve years later…_

His alarm clock blared in his ear, startling him awake. At any other time, Back in Black would usually pump him up, but not when it was the first thing he heard in the morning.

 

And at 8 in the freaking morning. On a Friday. No one should be awake at this hour.

 

God knows he usually wasn’t, as he’d scheduled himself at work as late as he could, but today was different.

 

Today, he had a date.

 

Although it was a date with his doctor instead of the sexy kind like he would have preferred, it was still enough to drag his ass out of bed.

 

He was _not_ a morning person.

 

On top of that, he was seeing the doctor for his suppressants. They’d been acting up lately, and it was beginning to show. He was becoming more emotional, irritable, he’d lost around ten pounds (and it wasn’t from the one time he’d worked out this month), and his stomach would get these cramps that would force him to call off of work.

 

Basically, it was like he was on a menstrual cycle.

 

Except he wasn’t a damn girl, and this wasn’t supposed to happen while on his meds.

 

No one but his father and brother knew about what he was, and he planned on keeping it that way. Excluding the doctors of course. Because no matter how hard he denied it, he had to acknowledge his sex in some way. And that acknowledgement was in the form of hiding it completely.

 

Since the day John slipped those pills underneath the door, he’d never missed a day of them. And he’d never had another heat, thank the fucking lord. When his embarrassment had finally faded away enough to leave his bedroom, he’d done his research.

 

There were ways to mask your scent. No one had to know he was an omega.

 

With his father’s enthusiastic support, he’d ordered the scent blockers, which transformed his soft fruity scent into something more neutral. That, aided by the scented shampoos and soaps catering towards betas, he passed as one. Not even the people he slept with could tell. He shuttered even thinking about that slick mess he was at fifteen. He needed to get his issues under control, stat. He was actually thankful for the break up he and Lisa went through right about now. If she had still been living with him while his body was fighting the drugs? Holy shit, he didn’t know what he’d do.

 

Because while he had loved Lisa, he couldn’t trust her with something that big. Besides that, if they hadn’t broken up three months ago, this surely would have been her breaking point.

 

Omega men were _not_ something women sought out.

 

In the time since he’d presented, he’d only seen a few of them. And without exception, they’d all been under the strict scrutiny of a larger and more domineering man. Alphas. Twelve years had not served to change his mind on the no homo thing.

 

Omega men were fucking rare, and if they weren’t mated, it was a freaking free for all for any knot head that caught their scent. While the laws protecting omegas had come a long way, and usually stopped hormone- riddled alphas from taking or mating omegas against their will, it still happened. Far too often for it to be uncommon.

 

Finally rousing himself enough to leave the warmth of his bed, he headed straight to the kitchen. God, he needed coffee.

 

He stared blearily at the pot of joe while it started up, all the while mindlessly stuffing a pop tart into his mouth. Breakfast of champions, and all that shit.

 

Hopefully there were some clean enough smelling clothes to wear, because he only had twenty minutes before he needed to be on the road. The doctor’s office was a half an hour away as he didn’t want to go too close to where he lived and risk seeing someone he knew, and his appointment was at 9.

 

Just when he’d found a shirt that didn’t reek of grease or fast food, his phone went off.

 

“Hello?” he hoped he didn’t sound like he’d just rolled out of bed, because he definitely did. His voice sounded all Batmanny in the mornings.

 

“Is this Dean Winchester? Hi, this is Rachel Hollo from Dr. Novak’s office. I’m sorry to bother you, but unfortunately, we have to cancel your appointment with us today. Dr. Novak had a family emergency and will not be in for the rest of the week. Is there another time you’d like to reschedule?”

 

Well fuck. He didn’t have time to reschedule. He had work at 2 and he needed to get this shit out of the way as soon as fucking possible.

 

Before someone noticed. There has to be somewhere else.

 

Sighing, Dean ended his internal conflict.

 

“No thank you, guess I’ll have to go somewhere else.”

 

“We’re very sorry for the inconvenience sir. And we hope you’ll choose to come here in the future if any other problem arises. Have a good day!”

 

Yeah, not likely.

 

 

 

Somewhere else ends up being a sketchy clinic an hour away. It was the only walk-in clinic he could find that didn’t cost and arm and a leg, and could see him right away.

 

Desperate he might be, but he was not desperate enough to risk going closer to home. Bobby would understand if he was a few minutes late to the garage.

 

Scoffing as he pulled the impala up to the dingy little green building, he took in the sight of the clinic with unimpressed eyes. Ha! This place looked like a weed dispensary or some shit! The only thing it was missing was a little green cross. But hey, beggars can’t be choosers. Even if the place looked like shit, it didn’t matter as long as he got some answers. A doctor’s a doctor right? He was still nervous regardless of the office’s outward appearance though.

 

Answers meant he had to give full disclosure. And that was the exact opposite of the Winchester way. Which was to deny, deny, ponder deeply for ten minutes, then deny some more.

 

He could do this. Dean took a deep breath and met his eyes in the rear view mirror.

 

Wide green eyes looked back at him, daring him to get this the hell over with. Swinging open his door, he stepped out into the humid Kansas summer. It was late June, and if he stayed outside for more than five minutes, he’d be sweating balls.

 

Making a direct beeline for the front door, which suspiciously had a ‘help wanted’ sign hanging on it, Dean walked into a tiny waiting room. He’d called ahead to be seen, but it didn’t look like he had needed to. The place was empty except for a wisp of a girl behind the desk who was blasting some god awful pop music that sounded suspiciously like Taylor Swift.

 

Glancing up from what looked like two names written in a bunch of hearts, her eyes did an automatic sweep up and down.

 

“Oh. My. God. Hi! Are you Mr. Winchester? You must be Mr. Winchester!”, woah, she was excitable, “I’m Becky! You just have to sign this real quick, and Dr. Shurley will be right with you!” she said, gesturing with a flourish at the clip board with a lone piece of paper in front of her. “Doctor Crowley insists.”

 

Looked like a lot of medical mumbo jumbo. Must be a waiver? The presiding doctor, Crowley, as the top of the form said, was not to be held liable for any harm that happened under the facilities’ care, blah blah blah... Standard bullshit, he guessed.

He signed his name on the dotted line and that was that. Excluding the $50 dollar coverage fee that was. What a joke.

 

“Awesome! Well, I can take you back now!” she says while her cheeks darken a little when she glances at the four empty chairs behind him.

 

“Slow day?”

 

If possible, she darkened even more. “Not really. We’re new.”

 

How reassuring.

 

At least he didn’t need to answer any of his personal information or sign a bunch of shit like he was sure he would of at the doctor’s office he was supposed to go to today.

 

He was led back behind her desk to one of two rooms, where there was already someone sitting on the patient table. The man looked about 25, and was probably fresh from college. Brown, just rolled out of bed hair, and a shaky demeanor. His leg was bouncing restlessly and he was typing furiously on his cell phone, with wide blue eyes.

 

Becky cleared her throat pointedly, but he didn’t look up.

 

Looking at Dean and then back to the man, she snipped, “Ch-Dr. Shurley!”

 

“Shit!” the look on his face was freak’in priceless! “Excuse me, I was just uh…startled.”

 

Scared shitless was more like it, Dean couldn’t help think with a smirk. This guy kind of reminded him of a scared Chihuahua. How was this guy a beta, and he was the omega? His sense of smell may have been dimmed along with his own scent, but it was returning enough for him to get a sense of this dude’s aura. Scared Chihuahua indeed.

 

Quickly standing up, the doctor gestured to his newly vacated seat, “Please, Mr…” he looked frantically around before Becky rolled her eyes and handed him the paper he had just signed before leaving the room and closing the door, “Winchester?  Mr. Winchester, take a seat. What seems to be the problem?”

 

Reluctantly walking over to the crinkled paper covered table, he sat down wishing he could run in the opposite direction of this whole stupid situation. Or take out his still broiling anger on something.

 

What a loaded question. The world was the problem. _He_ was the problem.

 

“Don’t really know where to start…Uhh… So I think I’m having issues with my…suppressants”, he couldn’t say the last word without wincing. It was even harder to say out load than in his head.

 

Guess Dr. Shurley didn’t see that one coming. It was almost comical to see his eyes widen even further.

 

“You’re an _omega_?! You? A male omega, holy _shi_ \- I mean… “ he pretended to be distracted by straightening his starched white coat, “What kind of issues?”

 

Now, it seemed, he had the doctor’s full attention. Time to get to it then.

 

“Issues as in, they’re not working” he deadpanned. “I’m feeling ass-backwards, dude. Moods, weight, all up and down.”

 

“Okay. Hmmm…Which type of suppressants are you taking, and for how long?”

 

“Since the day I presented at fifteen,” Dean replied, pulling out his almost empty bottle of suppressants he’d stashed in his back pocket at the last minute. “Never missed a day since.”

 

Dr. Shurley barely caught the bottle when Dean tossed to him, bobbling it twice before he held it steady to read the label.

 

“This is very strong medication, Mr. Winchester. I’ve uh, actually never worked with it before. But I know it’s one of, if not the strongest suppressants available. Do you mind giving us some quick blood labs? This kind of medicine is extremely prevalent in blood work, and it should be able to determine if it’s reaching your body’s nervous system properly.”

 

This dude sounded way too excited.

 

“How long would that take?” He did not have all day.

 

“Just an hour or so! You’re my only patient at the moment, so I’ll do my best to hurry along the process,” he hurriedly assured.

 

If it gave this guy the answers he needed, then what was a little blood?

 

“Fine. But I better get a damn sucker or something.”

 

 

The tests actually took 45 minutes. Just long enough for him to almost doze off and remember he was supposed to call his father today. They hardly communicated the way family’s should have, the way he did with Sam, but his dad had texted him yesterday to call him immediately. He’d pushed it out of mind until now, too caught up in his own problems to wonder about his dad’s. Whoops.

 

When Dr. Shurley came back into the small room, he was carrying what he assumed were his test results, and a…textbook?

 

“Well Mr. Winchester, your tests are back”, he said as he placed the papers down on the counter directly across from him. He opened the book and set them side by side, moving his finger back and forth between the two. “And it looks like your body’s hormone receptors are no longer accepting the stimulation of the drugs.”

 

It lapsed into silence for a minute while Dean waited for him to continue. He didn’t. Was that his answer, or was this dude going to explain?

 

“…Meaning?”

 

“Oh! Sorry! Meaning the suppressants have stopped distributing the particular hormones typically associated with that of a normal omega. I think. It says here that female omegas sometimes suffer the same symptoms after too many years on their suppressants.

 

Your body has stopped responding to your medication because you no longer require it. It seems as though dosage, plus the amount of years you’ve been taking them, was too strong for your body. Usually unmated females take suppressants until they find a mate, or to act as a temporary birth control. This strong of suppressants, I think in this case, may have the same kinds of consequences as would happen if you were a female.”

 

So far, it didn’t sound like he was dying.

 

“And what, I’m guessing this is a bad thing?”

 

Dr. Shurley finally turned back to him, looking distinctly uncomfortable.

 

“Yes. I’m pretty sure you’ve lost the ability to ever conceive children. I’m very sorry to tell you this sir, but the suppressants look like they’ve burned through your hormones and important parts of your body?”

 

Was he guessing? Or was this his diagnosis?

 

 “From what I can tell from your test results though, you weren’t a carrier in the first place. But if you had been, the drugs would have eliminated your body’s ability to produce a genetic replication of any kind.”

 

Oh. He knew some few omega males had the ability to conceive and give birth. He also knew it was encouraged to get tested once presented, to see if you were a carrier or not.

 

But he hadn’t. He never thought to. What difference did it make since he was never going to sleep with a dude? He couldn’t get knocked up, since nothing was going up there if he had anything to say about it. Getting pregnant was never something he’d ever worried about. It wasn’t even something he wanted.

 

Getting told he couldn’t get pregnant wasn’t exactly the disappointment he’s sure the doctor expected.

 

It was one less thing for his father to hold against him, though. Because there was not one manly thing about having the ability to conceive. Pregnancies were for women only. Anything else was an abomination. And John had made sure to drill that fact into Dean’s head a million times while under his roof.

 

Instead of being disappointed, Dean was actually pretty relieved. It must have shown on his face, because the young doctor went from being concerned and unsure of himself, to standing straight with a little swagger in his posture.

 

“Yes, but on the bright side, the medication seems to have also eliminated your ability to produce heats, since their sole purpose is to prepare for breeding and reproduction. Your current symptoms are a byproduct of taking the suppressants when there isn’t anything to suppress.”

 

The _fuck_? Did that mean what he thought it meant?

 

“In my uhh, professional opinion, you no longer need your suppressants. Your symptoms should go away once the pills are completely out of your system.”

 

Maybe the universe had finally decided to cut him a break?

 

HELL YEAH. Half of what made him an omega was gone. The only thing he had to do to keep up his charade now was to keep up with his scent blockers. No more worrying about missing a day, or one of his partners noticing him sneaking around when he needed to take them. And most of all, no more worrying about another heat. This was the best news he’d gotten in a long ass time.

 

After work, he was celebrating.

 

It was a good a night as any to get drunk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please forgive my medical bullshit. It was 2am and I am not a doctor. And for the record, the thing with the text book actually happened to me. If a doctor pulls out a text book to see what is wrong with you, please, GET A SECOND OPINION. They most likely do not know what they are doing. Do not follow Dean's lead, as I am sure you can guess what comes next. >:)
> 
> Hopefully the fun shit will be coming soon (meaning a certain sexy angel), so hang in there!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter, I just wanted to update before I leave for vacation. Plus, this is chapter leads up to the one I've been dying to get to! Enjoy! :)

It kind of felt like he’d lost fifty pounds instead of ten, he felt so light. He hadn’t realized it felt like he’d been carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders from day to day. Now, without it there, he could be a different person.

 

He could forget about what he was.

 

Suddenly, he wasn’t dreading that phone call with his dad so much anymore. He actually had good news for once. He couldn’t remember the last time that had happened. When he and John spoke, it was usually clipped, directly to the point sentences, in which John clearly never tried to keep the distain from his voice. Sure, his father loved him, but his father also hated a huge part of him at the same time. That was a huge issue to surpass. Not that they brought up “his condition”, as John referred to it. If his father could, he’d never speak of it again. What a confidence booster, right?

 

But as he pulled into the garage where he worked, only fifteen minutes late he might add, the phone call would have to wait. He had work to do, and Bobby no doubt, would be waiting to call him an “Idjit” for being late.

 

And he couldn’t keep the boss man waiting.

 

 

 

Work was actually pretty slow today, which wasn’t surprising considering it was Friday. People had better things to do than getting their cars looked at or fixed. They’d see a significant increase come Monday. They; meaning him and the three other people who worked at Singer’s Salvage garage.

 

It was just Bobby, Ash, and Benny keeping him company on and off as Dean continued his work on the car he’d been tinkering with for the last week and a half. It had been totaled, and was a slow process to fix, but with no real defining need to be finished, as the owner had already bought a new car and gave them the car for spare parts.  

 

He loved his job, and he actually liked everyone he worked with. Ash was a bit of a nut, but the dude was hilarious.Especially when he tried to prove the merits of sporting a mullet. He and Bobby were both betas, while Benny was an alpha. They all thought he was a beta, and he was never going to tell them differently.

 

Being an omega had changed his perception of everyone else. Betas were pretty safe, mostly non-threatening and neutral, while alphas usually set his nerves on edge. He wasn’t scared, because he was no wilting flower and knew how to handle himself in a fight if need be, but he knew alphas were unpredictable with their hormones in question. They could go from 0 to 60 just like that, and he didn’t want to be caught in the cross hairs. He was glad Benny was like his brother in more than one way, as he was similar to Sam’s calm temperament as well as a big teddy bear underneath the big, hulking frame.

 

He was lucky to work here, as his dad and Bobby had happened to be old co-workers a long time ago, and his dad never let him forget it. Speaking of his dad… his work day was coming to a close.

 

Soon enough, it was eight o’clock, and his high hadn’t been marred much by the tedious work. All he had to do now was call John, and then ‘Operation: Get Drunk Off His Ass’ would officially be under way.

 

 He might even get laid tonight…Scratch that, he was definitely getting laid tonight.

 

 

The fifteen minute drive from the garage to his apartment was just enough time for the rest of the tension to ease from his shoulder. He had good news, he thought. This call shouldn’t be to bad. Whatever the reason for John’s text was probably nothing right? Maybe he wanted someone to complain to again. You’d think the man would have friends for that shit, but then again he wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t. John Winchester was a difficult man to get a long with on the best of days. But then, he usually saved his ugly side just for Dean. Wasn’t he a lucky duck?

 

As it turns out, he didn’t need to call his dad though. As soon as he stepped through his door, his phone immediately starting ringing. Shit. Here goes nothing.

 

“Hello?” Nope, he didn’t sound nervous at all, he thought, rolling his eyes at himself. Way to go Dean.

 

“Dean Winchester, you better be dying.” his father all but growled.

 

What an awesome way to start a conversation. Really made him feel loved.

 

“Not last time I checked Dad. Why, are you disappointed?”

 

“Don’t be a smart ass Dean. The only reason a man should be late for work is because he died, or lost the ability to use their limbs. And since I doubt you did either of those, you better have a damn good reason for _missing_ work. _And_ being late today.”

 

Holy shit, he took back what he said about being lucky to work at the garage. The connection between his dad and Bobby was obviously not as big of an advantage as he’d originally thought. While he and Bobby were pretty close, he had no doubt Bobby would be unable to deny John any information the alpha demanded of the beta. He was stupid not to have anticipated this, especially since his dad was a hard ass when it came to him working. He’d taunted Dean with the fact that he only had a job because of John’s connections. Which while true at first, he knew he was the best mechanic at the shop, his sex be damned.

 

But it’s not like this was a common occurrence. He’d just started having his suppressant problem three weeks ago. Before that, he could count the number of days he’d called in sick on one hand. And he’d been working for Bobby for six years. He could usually handle a little pain no problem, but this had been different. His cramps had doubled him over, with the feeling like he’d been hit by a bus. He could barely move, and the thought of food made him nauseous. Basically, he would have been useless at work.

 

Dean took a deep breath, he knew his dad didn’t want to hear about his problems.

 

“I was sick Dad.”

 

He heard a snort on the other line, “I highly doubt that Dean. You just couldn’t resist, could you?”

 

Now, he honestly had no clue what his father was talking about. Was John drinking again? “Resist what? Please dad, enlighten me.”

 

If his dad wanted to act all pretentious and snotty, he could definitely return the favor. He just wasn’t sure he’d like the consequences when all was said and done.

 

“You gave in, didn’t you? Found yourself a nice alpha to submit to, I’d guess. You were always weak, and it was always in your nature. Should have known it was only a matter of time…”

 

He could of sworn his heart stopped beating for a second. It felt like he’d just been stabbed.

 

“No... No!,” he choked, trying to get the words out through his sudden panic, “I didn’t, dad. I don’t know how you could think that! I was sick, I swear!”

 

“You don’t know how I could think that huh? Well let me tell you, it wasn’t exactly hard to come to this conclusion. You are the _only_ one in this entire family born a weak, lost, little _thing_. I thought maybe if we pretended you aren’t what you are, we wouldn’t have to deal with this. But I can see now that I was wrong, Dean. Your condition has finally managed to take my son away from me.”

 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean, dad?”

 

“It means we’re done. I can’t bare the embarrassment of having an _omega_ for a son anymore, especially one who lets someone else use them as a bitch! I’ve tried everything I could to keep this from happening, but you’ve dug your own grave, Dean.”

 

Silence. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. His mind went blank. He couldn’t even defend himself, he just shut down. But he knew in his heart that it wouldn’t have mattered anyway. John has made his decision.

 

“Good-bye Dean.” 

 

The line went dead. He stared at his phone for a second in shock, before throwing it as hard as he could against the wall, breathing like he’d just ran a marathon.

 

And he thought this call wouldn’t be so bad. Should’ve known not to get his hopes up, but he never expected this to happen.

 

Since his mother died when he was four, he’d done everything in his power to make his dad happy. Not just happy, but _proud_. He always took care of Sammy, fed him, clothed him, took him to and from school. He made everyone’s lunch and dinner, and made sure the house was always clean. His father appreciated it at the time, but after he presented, he’d said it was an early indicator of what he was to become, and he should have read the signs earlier to avoid such disappointment. All his accomplishments leading up to presenting were then forgotten. And all his accomplishments after, graduating high-school, raising Sammy and seeing him off to fucking Stanford, and getting a job and moving out, meant absolutely nothing. There was no going back after Dean went into heat. It was like all his dad’s hopes and dreams had been crushed. And so had Dean’s dream of ever making his dad proud of him again.

 

He knew, he _knew_ that his dad would never see him as more than an omega, but this still fucking _hurt_. How do you move on from your father cutting ties with you? He didn’t know it was possible for someone to hate him as much as he hated himself, but he was just proven wrong. Shame crept over him, coloring his neck, and making his skin feel too tight. All he had left now was Sam…

 

He wondered if his brother wanted anything to do with him either. He wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t.

 

Wow, he was depressing himself even more.

 

At least now, he had another reason to get drunk. And get laid. Because seriously, what else could possibly go wrong?

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Slamming his seventh shot down on the bar, Dean immediately motioned for another. Beer just wouldn’t cut it tonight, and he’d finished four before starting in on the shots. He wanted to forget this whole fucking day had ever happened. Never mind celebrating, he wanted to _forget_.

 

And with just the right amount of alcohol and sweet talk, he might get that. Oblivion. Just for a little while. After the universe was done taking a shit on his life, that was.

 

Dean hung his head between his shoulders and squeezed his eyes closed, trying desperately to shut off his brain.

 

The only saving grace of the night was the moment he got to look at his suppressants before consciously not taking one for the first time since he was fifteen. He had nothing tying him down anymore. Not his damn pills, not his damn body, and not his damn, good for nothing father, he thought bitterly. If only it were that easy. He wished he could feel only anger. But that’s just not how grief worked. It wanted to ravage it’s way through his entire being. Drag him down to a place he was very familiar with.

 

Two more shots go down before he’s able to lift his head once more and eye his future prospects. Time to get over him self. He’d been denying advances left and right, wanting to wait till he was ready to do the pursuing himself. Dean knew he was fucking attractive. While his dad had scorned him for being a “pretty boy”, Dean had actually ignored those jibes, choosing instead to use his good looks to his advantage instead of internalizing the insult from his dad like he usually did. He had no problem bringing pretty women back to his place, and you’d never hear him complaining about his good looks, that was for sure. But tonight, he needed something special. A “wow” factor.

 

He saw a blonde on his left with a low cut red dress that left nothing to the imagination, and heels that definitely did great things for her ass. Beta. She looked like she’d be feisty in bed, and could show him a good time- in a short time. But she had an alpha almost attached to her hip, and Dean smirked when he caught the dude’s glare. Yeah, not touching that one.

 

There were a few women that were still pouting and looking his way after he’d ignored them, but he’d be an asshole now if he tried to come on to them after that… hmmm… there was a hot brunette over on the other side of the bar-

 

Suddenly his vision of the woman was interrupted by a head of thick, shocked by static/just rolled out of bed head, with a pair of dark blue eyes. Eyes that were not so subtlety boring holes into his face. Great. Just what he fucking needed. He was too drunk for this.

 

“I’m not gay,” He blurted. Might as well get that over with, he thought as he turned to face the bar again.

 

“Hello ‘I’m Not Gay’, I’m ‘Not Quite Drunk Yet’. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

 

Bed head sounded very amused with himself, and Dean could barely fight the smile working it’s way up his lips. At least this dude was original. Giving in, Dean snorted.

 

Smirking in apparent victory, bed head motioned for the bartender with two fingers. “So, ‘I’m Not Gay’, can I at least buy you a drink? If only to commiserate. I think the expression is ‘misery loves company?”

 

Who used air quotes anymore? And did this guy swallow a bunch of gravel? He’d never heard such a deep voice before.

 

“What makes you think I’m miserable dude?” he said defensively. Was he that obvious?

 

“Don’t worry,” the man’s amused look turned into something more solemn, “I’m an efficient people reader. I can tell you are unhappy from the hunch of your shoulders and your rigid posture….As well as from the copious amounts of alcohol I’ve watched you consume. From that I gather you are just as miserable as I am, or you’re just looking to get drunk. Either way, I assure you, I’d like to help.”

 

Finally, Dean let himself really look at the man on his right. Turning just enough to take him in as a whole, he realized the guy actually wasn’t bad looking.

 

As far as dudes go that is, he swiftly reminded himself.

 

Bed head was sporting fancy looking- but rumbled clothes, and had some dark circles underneath his eyes like he really needed to sleep for a solid day or so, but other than that, the man was… nice looking? With an angular face that would have made anyone else look harsh, paired with his now soft blue eyes, the man looked gentle. Which was totally at odds with his scent, which while dimmed due to his blockers, he could _definitely_ label this man as an alpha. An alpha who apparently had been watching him.

 

“Sure, whatever I guess. A free drink is a free drink.” He relented. No harm in hearing this dude’s story. Just because bed head was interested, didn’t mean anything would come from it. “But you gotta tell me what’s up with you before I drink anything.”

 

Perfect timing too, since the bartender chose that moment to place two shots in front of them both. Dean slid one over in front of him, but made no move to drink it yet.

 

“Alright, sounds like a fair deal,” the man trailed off reluctantly, sighing and looking up at the ceiling, “My brother died yesterday. His body was found earlier today.”

 

 _Fuck_. And here he was moping over some hurt feelings.

 

“Shit man, I’m sorry.”

 

He couldn’t imagine how this guy was feeling. If he’d lost Sam, he’d never be able to recover. He’d be a complete wreck.

 

“It’s alright. Unfortunately, it wasn’t a complete surprise. He chose a dangerous path, and no matter how hard we tried to help him, he continued to rebel. His fall from grace was a long time coming,” he said. He clenched his jaw before downing his shot. Dean slid him his as well, the poor guy needed it more.

 

They lapsed into silence while they waited for the bartender to come back. While emotionally charged and heavy, the silence was comfortable. There was no pressure to speak. When she refilled their shots, the man visibly shook himself before turning himself completely on the stool to face Dean.

 

“Please, drink. I apologize for putting a damper on an already sour mood, but it seems now you must follow through with our agreement.”

 

Well, he wasn’t going to argue with the guy now. They both finished their shots, before slamming the glasses down once more. Okay- Dean was definitely drunk. But the room wasn’t spinning yet, so he was good to go!

 

“Castiel.”

 

“God bless you.”

 

“It’s actually my name. I can tell you were dying to ask it of me, but you obviously were too polite to ask.”

 

“Too polite, huh Casteel? Maybe I didn’t want to know your name. I told you- I’m not gay.” No matter how bad he felt for the dude, he needed to get that through his head.

 

“Cas-tee-el.” He over pronounced, “It’s Castiel. I understand we may have gotten off to a dark beginning, but I’d like you to know you are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.” Guess this guy was over the ‘not quite drunk yet’ thing. And skipping right to the punch.

 

To his horror, Dean could feel a blush start to rise over his cheeks and neck. “Uh, I think you’ve had enough to drink now, _Castiel_.”

 

“That might be so, but believe me when I say that you are incredibly beautiful. My sobriety has nothing to do with that. If you don’t believe me, look around and see all the envious looks I’m receiving right now for even sitting next to you.”

 

Dean quickly spun around on his stool and did manage to catch two or three people hastily dropping their gaze from their direction. They could just be staring at Castiel though… he was pretty good looking.

 

How much had he had to drink again?

 

“Bull. I bet you say that to everyone you’re attempting to get into bed. But it aint working buddy. Especially since I know you’re game. Sweet talk is my middle name.” Hehe- if only he'd given the dude his last name! He'd be "I'm Not Gay Sweet Talk Winchester," he thought to himself with a smirk.

 

But all the while, Dean could practically feel his dad cringing over his shoulder for even allowing this guy to hit on him. Even though as far as flirting, this guy seemed pretty tame- if not extremely polite, which was weird. And it’s fucking nothing compared to what it would have been if this guy, or anyone else in this damn bar knew his secret.

 

“It’s no ploy. Despite what you are imagining, I don’t do this very often.” Castiel said, looking down at his hands, “I apologize if I’m making you uncomfortable-…?“ he left off imploringly, turning the saddest looking pair of puppy-dog eyes he’d ever seen besides his brother’s on him with full force.

 

Shit. How could he say no to that?

 

 “It’s Dean,” he sighed. What could he say? The dude fought dirty.

 

“Dean,” he said, seeming to like the way word tasted in his mouth, “Now that we’ve been properly introduced, and I’ve divulged my woes to you, why don’t you tell me what has led you to your current state of inebriation.”

 

As drunk as he was, he was still not down for sharing his feelings and shit. Despite his anatomy, he wasn’t a girl. But Castiel had shared with him something pretty fucking personal with him, so he had to find a way out of it without being a complete douche bag for once in his life.

 

“I don’t kiss and tell on the first date, Cas,” Dean smirked.

 

Flirting was always his fall back. He could do this, if only to escape from sharing his fucking feelings. Not that he or Castiel would remember tomorrow. The bartender had been in and out while they'd been talking. Refilling silently and moving on to the next patron.

 

Castiel’s eyes widened. “So you’ve decided this is a date? What happened to Mr. I’m Not Gay?” he challenged, choosing to ignore the nickname.  Castiel was a fucking mouthful, he probably got it a lot.

 

“I mean you kind of bought me dinner,” he joked, motioning to the empty shot glasses, “Now I feel like a proper lady, all wined and dined and shit.”

 

“I severely hope you are joking. If you didn’t have anything to eat tonight, I would be more than happy to buy you dinner. And you don’t even have to be a lady to enjoy it.”

 

“I was joking Cas,” he laughed. “Believe me, I’d be in puke city right now if I wasn’t. I knew I was gonna get drunk- so I did it semi-responsibly!” he defended himself.

 

“Spoken like a true contributor to a productive society.” Cas murmured, then laughed at himself.

 

Castiel talked funny. He was kind of dry, and he liked using big words, but the dude was nothing if not amusing. He ‘d made Dean laugh when he didn’t think it was possible at the moment. And the guy’s brother just died. He was going through a lot of effort to get a lay. Speaking of which, Dean really needed to get back to business. Before he passed the fuck out.

 

Seemingly to read his mind, Cas leaned forward again, almost invading his personal space, making sure he had Dean's full attention.

 

“Dean, I would like to reiterate my interest. I know what you said before. But I’m finding that hard to believe right now.”

 

“And why is that?”

 

“Because we’ve been talking for almost two hours, and the whole time you’ve been unconsciously leaning towards me, and your normal breathing pattern  increased when I leaned further into you.”

 

What the fu- he jerked himself back abruptly, realizing how close they had gotten. And had they really been talking that long?! He checked his watch, and it was nearing 1:30am. Where had the time fucking _gone_? Well at least he wasn’t moping anymore. He'd almost forgotten he was in a shitty mood.

 

But now he was presented with a new problem. Did he like this guy? Enough to break every rule he and his dad had set in place for him since he was fifteen? Was his dad right about him? Was he just a weak little omega waiting for someone to submit to?

 

“It’s alright Dean. I understand if the answer is still no, but if there is an inkling of doubt, let me assure you that you would not be making a mistake. And this would not make you “gay,” as one is not defined by sexual orientation or labels. I would love to show you, actually. You've missed out on much, my friend.”

 

There was really no question about who would be running the show at this point. While Cas couldn’t identify his omega status, as a beta, as he was pretending to be, he would still be in a position below an alpha. His dad would be right.

 

But his dad had abandoned him. He no longer had a say in any of his choices, and he had no control over what he did right now. He wasn’t fucking weak. He made his own choices, and was his own person. It didn’t matter who he slept with, he would never submit himself to another human being. He would prove his father fucking wrong. He knew no better way of sending a huge 'fuck you' towards John, then by doing the very thing John hated the most. But he could do this as a way to prove it to himself too. He didn't need anyone.

 

He probably should have waited to have this epiphany when he wasn’t wasted though. And from the looks of it, his suitor wasn’t much better off. Whatever. This was obviously a good decision.

 

“Alright. Show me. Lead the way, Cas.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh. Finally. Good shit to come people, so be patient with me! :)   
> Mistakes are my own.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At this time, I'd like to remind you to check the rating of this story. Please read responsibly. Meaning, do not read in public, or the general vicinity of your family, because it's about to get smutty up in this bitch! ....Just kidding, please enjoy.

This a horrible fucking idea, Dean thought as he tried to unlock his apartment door with shaking fingers. One short taxi ride later, and two flights of stairs where he had to hold up Cas because he kept stumbling and cracking up, they’d arrived. And while he was by no means sober, he was starting to have second thought. He was definitely about to leave his comfort zone, and he wasn’t sure how this shit was supposed to go.

 

But as soon as he got the door open, he realized that he wouldn’t have to worry about what to do next. Apparently Cas was done with being a huge drunk’in goof ball.

 

Cas waited about two seconds after walking through the threshold to take him firmly by the shoulders  and spinning him around, effectively pinned him to the door, and crushed his lips to Dean’s. Unfortunately, Dean’s instinct though, was still to resist. He was fucking _pinned_. Going rigid again, eyes open and fists clenched, he stared at the man trying to kiss him. Could he really sit in the passengers seat? Let someone else run the show, while he just went a long for the ride? No pun intended.

 

Cas felt so warm. And he smelled good. This was just like hooking up with a girl, except the other person had the same equipment as him. Fuck, he had to do this. The only thing that was holding him back was his father. And his father could stick it where the sun don’t shine. Once he got over this, he could be done with it. Just needed to prove he could do it. Closing his eyes, Dean let himself go.

 

Immediately, Cas could sense the difference, as he slanted his mouth more to Dean’s, instead of the straight face to face fifth grade shit they’d been doing since Dean’s mind and body had refused to cooperate. Closing his eyes was so much better. Cas’s mouth was so fucking soft, even as he was kissing him like there’d be no tomorrow.

 

This wasn’t like kissing a girl _at all_.

 

He was so out of his depth, it was ridiculous. Even though Dean was pretty sure he had at least an inch or so over the man, Cas seemed to loom over him, demanding entrance until Dean let his lips part. As soon as Cas’s tongue found his own, he felt Cas’s arm, which had been braced against the wall next to his head, work it’s way to the base of his skull. More importantly, fingers made their way through his hair.

 

 _Fuck_ , that felt good. Even better as Cas tightened his grip. Cas’s mouth was doing sinful things to Dean’s and Dean felt himself melting further and further into the door. Cas’s other hand was slowly caressing the skin underneath his shirt, right above his jeans. Teasing. Goosebumps had risen all across his skin when he had to break away for breath, but even then Cas barely seemed phased, turning instead to continue his assault on his neck. He couldn’t help the moan that slipped out when Cas found that little spot beneath his ear. Holy shit. He was being turned into putty. Would it feel better if he knew Cas could scent him? He wondered, but let the idea quickly slip his mind as Cas licked and bit at his neck.

 

And he was beginning to question Cas’s honesty when he said he didn’t do this often. This man had to have had a lot of fucking experience. Cas was leading, and Dean was blindly following without question. Of course while this thought was going through his head, Cas would fucking pick him up.

 

Like it was fucking nothing! And Dean was no feather either. He was pretty built, sturdy, strong from his days at the garage, so what the fuck?! This guy made him seem like no fucking problem. Okay, so maybe he was too drunk, but he had thought this guy looked lean and wiry.

 

 God he was glad to be wrong right now, as Cas all but crushed him to the wall and found his mouth again. Did he just discover a new kink? He’d usually be doing the heavy lifting in this situation. He had to spread his legs a little more to allow him better access, but all he wanted was another taste of those lips. They tasted like mint and fresh water, which was weird, especially considering all the alcohol this dude had drank, but he was definitely not complaining. The taste was addictive. Likewise, Cas seemed to really like the taste of his mouth too.

 

Pulling away with a gasp, Cas leaned into him again, “Bedroom?” he whispered against Dean’s neck. Nudging himself to rub against where their hips were locked.

 

“God, yes.”

 

Dean could feel the laugh vibrate against his skin, leaving pin pricks on sensation in it’s wake. “Where, Dean?”

 

Where was his bedroom again? It was like his brain had left for vacation, never to return again unless immediately related to his imminent orgasm…

 

Wait, what was the question again? Cas’s lips were mouthing at his neck again…

 

“Fuck… down the hall. Door on the right.”

 

Mission accomplished, Dean grabbed at Cas’s hair, pulling his mouth back to his. They could do this all damn night as far as he was concerned. They could make out like teenagers the whole time, and Dean was pretty sure he’d be content. It was a good thing he wasn’t in charge then, because upon having a general direction, Cas was pulling him away from the door and towards the bedroom. Strong arms gripped under his thighs tight, inching slowly towards his ass. But at the moment, Dean did not give one single fuck. Wrapping his arms tight around Cas’s neck to try to keep Cas’s lips, and crossing his ankles where they hung around his hips, Dean let himself be carried. Thank god, he’d left his bedroom door open, because the next thing he felt was Cas none too gently depositing him onto the bed in a heap.

 

Cas didn’t follow. He took a step back, and stared wordlessly down at Dean. He probably made one hell of a sight too, hair all mussed, lips swollen from kissing, eyes wide with excitement and booze. Probably looked like a needy girl, come to think of it. Waiting for the command to bend over and take it, he thought with a grimace. Hell no. Whatever he was, he would not, and could not be that. If Cas knew what he was, he doubted this would be very different.

 

Fuck, he thought, trying to shake himself out of his daze, he was not supposed to be enjoying this. It was just to prove a point. To his father, and to himself. He needed to get some control over this, and stat. Plus, he needed to get out of his self-deprecating mind set.

 

Cas though, was still looking at him. For a drunk guy, his ability to show so much emotion on his face was impressive. He was looking at Dean as if he’d just hung the fucking moon.

 

“So beautiful Dean, you have no idea…”he said as finally came closer. Crawling over him and the bed until he was able to lower himself slowly, arms coming to frame either side of Dean’s head, his legs bracketing but not touching his hips. “The room is spinning, but you don’t seem to. Everything is gravitating around you. You’re completely solid, and here. And mmmm…” he took a whiff at Dean’s neck, but pulled away gently with a puzzled frown on his face.

 

He couldn’t smell him could he?! Betas were supposed to be pheromone free and neutral. And he was absolutely positive he’d taken his blockers and applied his usual routine of shampoos and soaps today.

 

Seeming to shrug it off, Cas went back to placing kisses on his neck. Then his shoulder and lower… But his long sleeve flannel was apparently annoying the man. His face scrunched up, and his head tilted to the side. Okay, that was kind of cute. He kind of looked like a lost puppy. Meeting eyes with Dean, he tugged on his sleeve. “This needs to be off, Dean. Immediately.”

 

Well, okay. He was down for the no clothes thing.

 

But when moved to help rid himself of his clothing, Cas growled low in his throat and swatted his hands away, replacing Dean’s fingers with his own, unbuttoning each button with a precision Dean lacked after so many drinks. After each button was undone, Cas pushed the shirt off his shoulders, kissing them as he did. The kissing quickly turned to sucking and biting though once Cas lowered his head to Dean’s chest.

 

Hissing in pleasure and shock, Dean gripped hard at Cas’s hair as he paid special attention to Dean’s nipples. Shit, they were sensitive! And Cas seemed to gather that, going by his deviously pleased smirk. He redoubled his efforts on the other one, alternating between licking and sucking. Embarrassingly enough, Dean felt himself being nudged slowly towards the edge, and he found he’d been unconsciously widening his legs to bring Cas closer and closer to where he really needed him to be.

 

“Are you enjoying this, Dean? Or is there something else you’d like for me to suck?”

 

“Fuck, Cas.” Dean groaned, “I didn’t peg you for a dirty talker. How the hell am I supposed to compete with that, man?”

 

Placing one more kiss on the sensitive flesh on his chest, Cas ducked to rest his head on Dean’s stomach. “It’s not a competition, Dean. As I’ve said before, I’d like to show you. Meaning I am going to do everything in my power to make you scream my name by the end of the night. Repeatedly.”

 

Woah, the temperature just went up ten degrees in here.

 

“Clothes, Cas. You’re wearing way too many.”

 

“I couldn’t agree more.”

 

But instead of moving to undress himself like Dean wanted, he went for Dean’s fly, unzipping it, and gripping his jeans and boxers before pulling them down in one go.

 

 Which was totally fucking unfair. Here he was now, fucking naked while Cas was still fully clothed. He was about to complain, but Cas slid right off the bed, dragging Dean’s legs with him as he went until his legs hung over the side, and his feet landed squarely on the rough carpet, Cas looming over him.

 

“What are you-“

 

Kneeling quickly between his legs, hands going to hold Dean’s hips down, Cas took no time to suck the tip of Dean’s straining erection into his mouth. 

 

Holy fuck, how did he not notice that he was harder than a fucking rock?! And holy fuck- a dude was doing this to him! He’d never, ever, thought that he’d be in this situation. He’d never thought he could even be turned on by a man.

 

Biting his lips to hold back his moan, he watched as Cas breathed through his nose and took him further and further into his warm, sucking mouth, going deeper and deeper. Bobbing his head a few times, to try and find a rhythm, it seemed like Cas was completely intent on Dean’s pleasure alone. Bucking his hips to try to get further into him, he let go of Cas’s hair to grip the sheets for better leverage. He could taste the blood in his mouth from where he’d bitten into his lips so hard, trying to keep in his noises.

 

Working his way up and up until only the tip was in his mouth again, and his hands left his hips to jack the rest of him, Cas hollowed out his cheeks until it was like a fucking vacuum, and Cas was trying to take everything Dean had to offer.

 

Letting go with a wet pop, but continuing his up and down strokes on his now wet cock, Cas met his eyes again.

 

“I want to hear you, Dean. I Know you’re holding back.” Reaching forward, he gently took his lip from where his teeth had been digging into it so tightly. “You’re hurting yourself. Do it again, and I promise I’ll stop.”

 

Dean laved the fingers still holding his lips with his tongue in apology, and Cas took the opportunity to  slip the two digits into Dean’s mouth.

 

Cas couldn’t help his moan as Dean took to sucking his fingers with abandon, needing no direction. Fuck that was hot. He couldn’t even imagine how overwhelmingly sexy it would be if Dean were to suck him off. While definitely rugged and handsome in some ways, he couldn’t really deny that Dean was, like he told him earlier, beautiful. Slightly feminine in a way most men wished they were. With bright green eyes, sun kissed freckles, and plump, pouty lips, Dean was almost too perfect. And too controlled. He wanted this man to completely lose it, just for the night. To go forward from here knowing that there was way more to life than the ideals of closed minded people. You didn’t have to be gay to enjoy sex with men. You didn’t have to be straight to enjoy sex with women. Alpha or beta, or even omegas. They didn’t have to follow exactly to the tee what society told them to be or do. Humanity in itself was fluid, always moving and constantly changing to meet the needs of the current majority. Putting limitations on one single aspect of that seemed a waste of time and emotion to him.

 

Speaking of limits, he thought, it was time to push some of Dean’s.

 

Should probably distract him first though, he had a feeling this part would be new for him. The alcohol was probably what had relaxed up to this point. Distraction, yes. And what was more distracting then a blow job? Getting back to it, he took Dean in again, going straight for deep throating as he brought his hands to his hips again. They didn’t stay there though, even though Dean immediately bucked up again, almost gagging him. As long as he relaxed his throat he’d avoid any embarrassing accidents.

 

Cas’s hands slithered further behind Dean, until he has a cheek in each palm.

 

 Dean stiffened immediately, but Cas doesn’t stop. He continues to suck while cautiously beginning to massage the muscles of Dean’s pert ass. They would take this slow. Go at Dean’s pace.

 

As soon as Dean relaxes into the bed again, he lets the two damp fingers get closer and closer to his crack, rubbing gently at the seam. Going up and down over and over until he’s inched his way around his rim. While Dean tenses again as he circles it with his finger, he also moans and bucks again at the same time.

 

 

Nudging again at the tight ring of muscle, he finally pressed against his hole. Not pushing in just quite yet, but putting enough pressure there to have Dean keen again in confusion, hips squirming in a way in which it was clear that he wasn’t sure which way to thrust his hips.

 

Taking his fingers away for a second, he offered them to Dean once more,  one last chance to end this night right here, and not go any further.

 

Staring at Cas’s fingers in front of his face for a second or two, Dean made his choice.

 

He couldn’t quit now, he thought, as he took to sucking Cas’s fingers again. He was so fucking close. To what exactly, he wasn’t sure.

 

When his fingers were good and wet again, Cas finally released Dean’s dick from his mouth, smiling when Dean groaned at the loss of sensation.

 

“Relax Dean. I’m not finished with you just yet.” He just needed to catch his breath for what happened next.

 

Reaching one hand to fondle Dean’s balls, and sinking down to suck him down again at the same time, Cas’s other hand slipped between his slit and directly to his entrance. Circling one more time, feeling how wet he was from sweat and saliva, and his own precome from when he’d jacked him, Cas gently slipped the tip of one finger inside his little hole.

 

“Shit,” Dean moaned as Cas wiggled his finger further and further up his ass. That felt fucking weird.

 

At least, it didn’t feel…bad.

 

Cas crooked the one finger, and he could feel it brush up against something that made him shiver and moan, made his legs jerk up off the floor.

 

“Do that again,” Dean demanded in a hoarse gasp.

 

Cas hummed around his dick in acknowledgment, sending vibrations all around it, but then he was prodding at the spot, and Dean stopped thinking completely.

 

His orgasm took him completely by surprise, and he didn’t even try to stifle his moan this time. He was way too over stimulated. With Cas swallowing him down like a pro, and the weird sensation of his ass clenching around the finger inside him, he was fucking gone. All the while Cas kept up his ministrations between his legs, and when Dean finally went lax, Cas let go of his dick and took the opportunity to slip another finger inside him.

 

He couldn’t tense up, even if he wanted to. All his limbs had turned to jelly, and his mind, which had already been fuzzy with alcohol, turned pleasantly foggy.

 

“Are you still with me, Dean?”

 

All he could do was moan in response, as he could feel Cas’s fingers scissoring inside him, opening him up, and simultaneously brushing against that spot, which he figured had to be his prostrate. It’s funny, because up until then, he’d thought the whole prostrate being compared to g spot had been a myth. He was fucking glad to be proven wrong this time. That had probably been one of the most intense orgasms of his life. And that was saying something.

 

Cas chuckled throatily, and added a third finger. “Dean, I realize words might be failing you at the moment, but I need you to answer something for me.”

 

He hadn’t realized he’d closed his eyes, but it was way too much effort to try now. Especially when he was actively moving his hips to try and help Cas on his hunt for Dean’s prostate.

 

“Hmmm…?”

 

“Where might I find condoms and lube, Dean? I do not intend on hurting you your first time, and I don’t want to knot you our first time.”

 

“Why not?” he pouted without thinking. What the fuck had gotten into him?! First he’d let this man finger him, and next he wanted his knot? It was fucking crazy, but Cas’s apparent disinterest in knotting him made him feel horribly insecure. He knew he probably wasn’t all that great in the sack, considering his inexperience with men, and he knew he’d lost a few pounds, but he was hoping Cas wouldn’t have noticed or cared.

 

“I said our first time,” Cas soothed, seemingly to read Dean’s worry, “if you recall, I told you I’d make you scream my name repeatedly. This is a marathon, not a race, Dean. And I intend to pace myself.”

 

Annnnnnd, his dick came back to life again.

 

Despite not having come less than ten minutes ago, he could feel it give a valiant twitch, gearing up for round two. Holy shit, this man would be the death of him. He hadn’t rebounded this fast in years.

 

“Bed side table. Second drawer down.”

 

He was classy, not trashy, thank you very much. Only cocky people kept their personal stash in the top drawer. He was better than that. And he definitely did not just whimper at the loss of the fingers inside him either. Not-uh. He just wasn’t expecting it, was all.

 

After Cas’s clothes were hurriedly discarded and lube retrieved, condom successfully, if not clumsily applied, Dean was expecting what came next. Meaning pain this time. Cas looked fucking big. Way too big to be going into to someone’s body. Especially his. Fuck, could he really go through with this? His orgasmic high was starting to fade, and his nerves were coming back full force. This could change everything. Sure, he’d left behind everything that made him an omega, but he couldn’t deny that he was about to do something he’d swear he’d never do. When he was alone and shivering in that bath tub all those years ago, he’d cemented the idea in his head. That being an omega meant you were a bitch to be taken. And being an omega was something awful, something to be ashamed of. All his life, he’d been ashamed of what he was. Ashamed of what he was because he’d let his father down.

 

But this didn’t need to mean anything relating to being an omega. Right now, he was just a man. A man who was seeking out a mutual pleasure with another person, who just so happened to be a man himself. Fuck anyone who thought differently (his dad).

 

This guy was hot and made him feel good. Dean could admit to himself now. And whatever happened tonight would not alter who he was. As a person, or as a man.

 

Leaning over Dean, Cas placed a chase kiss on his lips before pulling back a few inches to look into his eyes.

 

“Obviously I’m not doing a very good job, because I can tell you are thinking too much.”

 

Turning his head away from Cas’s intense gaze, he turned to look at his barren brown walls before answering. “Sorry man, just spaced out for a second.”

 

“I’ll have to fix that.”

 

 Grabbing at his legs again, he spread Dean’s thighs apart and stepped between them. Dean was totally exposed. No clothes or distractions hiding him this time. Dragging his hands from Dean’s hard nipples, across his abs and spread thighs, Cas raked his nails in a light scratch until he was rubbing at his ass again.

 

Dean’s breathing was labored as Cas squirted lube on to his fingers before finding his hole again.

 

“Almost ready to take my cock, Dean. Just need to stretch you a little more.”

 

At his dirty words, and fingers slipping in once more, Dean let out a low, quiet moan, pushing back against the fullness.

 

When he had three fingers inside of Dean, Cas started to fuck them lazily in and out, watching as his pink rim fluttered around the intrusion. Dean’s hips were matching the rhythm, unconsciously rubbing himself against his leaking cock and trying to get him to increase the pace.

 

“You’re doing so good, Dean,” he praised, “you’re so relaxed and open for me.” He whispered as he added his last finger. Dean didn’t so much as wince. He must be a natural bottom, he thought, which was slightly uncommon for betas. It was a pity he’d never found that at before, let alone enjoyed the fact. But he couldn’t complain, knowing it would be a tight fit once he was finally inside Dean.

 

“Fuck,” Dean groaned, “Shut your filthy mouth Cas, or I swear I’ll be coming before the main event.

 

“As you wish.”

 

“You did not just quote the princess bride when you’re about to- oh fuck!”  Dean yelled as Cas hoisted Dean’s legs up to hold around his hips with one hand, and led the tip of his dick to Dean’s entrance with the other.

 

He could feel the hard length Cas’s cock against his opening. Teasing at first, then pushing slightly. Then there was a blunt pressure, and the natural inclination to tense up. How the fuck could he fit?! He felt huge, and he wasn’t even inside him yet!

 

“Deep breath, beautiful. I know you can take me. It won’t hurt, I promise.” He’d prepped him enough. Dean was ready.

 

Doing as directed, Dean took a slow breath in, and willed his entire body to relax. When he let his breath out, he could feel Cas’s dick slowly start to push inside him, coaxing Dean to let him in.

 

Panting with lust and  anxiety, Dean realized as Cas slipped in inch by inch, that he was right. While a tad bit uncomfortable, it didn’t hurt. More than anything else, it was just weird.  But Cas’s noises he released as he kept pushing, made the weird feelings of fullness disappear.

 

Jaw going slack, and eyes closing, Dean cried out softly when Cas bottomed out.

 

Holy shit, he was fucked.

 

 

He could feel how tense Cas was, forcing himself not to move to let get accommodated to the feeling and his considerable size. But he didn’t want that right now.

 

Rocking down a little on the length inside him, he said, “Come on Cas.”

 

Whimpering in response, Cas gratefully obliged. Withdrawing a little, causing Dean to gasp at the sensation of something moving inside him, he started to rock his hips gently into Dean.

 

Dean had a death grip on the sheets, but as soon as Cas started to pick up the pace, his hands flew Cas’s hips to draw him in closer, deeper, arching his spine and moaning loudly. Wow, his neighbors were going to fucking hate him.

 

But he couldn’t stop his noises. And Cas loved every single one of them.

 

Dean was panting and whimpering as Cas continued to thrust in and out of his body, going deeper and deeper, trying to find that spot that would make Dean go crazy. Grabbing a cheek in each hand, he spreads Dean’s ass open as he works his hips harder, leaning over him to change the angle a bit, Cas started to fuck him in earnest, still watching where he disappears into Dean’s pink little hole. He’s never seen a prettier sight.

 

With Cas’s cock nestled deep inside him, hitting places he never knew he had, Dean knew this wouldn’t last long. It was too fucking good. He could feel the bed rocking against the wall, and hear skin slapping skin as Cas pounded into him, growling wordlessly to combat Dean’s own moans.

 

Hoisting Dean’s legs up high, Cas finally finds the angle he was looking for, judging by the way Dean reacts.

 

“Fuck! Right there, Cas! Oh fuck, right there…” he moans, while his face twists with ecstasy.

 

“Dean,” Cas moans back, thrusting hard again at that spot, and loving the way Dean keens breathlessly and digs his nails into Cas’s hips.

 

Grabbing his dick where its bobbing violently against his stomach, Dean only last a few more thrusts and quick strokes before tipping over the edge.

 

“CAS!” he shouts, ass clenching around his thick length, and continuing to ride back into Cas’s thrusts as Cas finds completion inside him at the same time, coming with a hoarse groan.

 

 

 

 

He could swear he blacked out for a minute of two. Because the next thing he knows, Cas is leaning over him to kiss him sloppily, slipping out of him as he does so, knot contained inside the condom.

 

Cas could have said something to him, could have asked him something, but Dean has clocked out. His limbs and head felt warm and fuzzy, and he suddenly had a warm body wrapping itself around him. Right now, it was time to sleep.

 

He could deal with shit tomorrow, he thought as he relaxed further into the arms wrapped around him. He felt too good to bother trying to stay awake,

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took me a long ass time. I was on vacation with the family. Enough said. Sorry for any mistakes!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can thank my shitty day for such a quick update. Warning for angst and smut.

 

The next thing he knew, his head was fuzzy, something was tickling his neck, and his alarm clock was shining right in his face. He barely slit open his eyes to see that it was seven fucking thirty in the morning on a fucking Saturday.  Light was barely starting to make it’s way through his mostly closed blinds, signaling a new day. A day he was not ready to face. Especially before eleven.

 

After the fall out from his dad yesterday and the visit to the clinic, all he wanted to do was to sleep the day away. Possibly the whole weekend, actually. Maybe watch bad tv, and order pizza or some shit. So, what gives?

 

Something tickled his neck again, and when he moves to swat at it, he realized he couldn’t, and froze.

 

What. The. Fuck. That was a person wrapped around him, arms restraining his own in a loose hole, spooning him from behind. But he was usually the big spoon…

 

Looking down at the arms around him, he saw that they were way too hairy to be a chick’s.

 

 

No, no, no, no, no, no, _NO_.

 

All of it was coming back to him now, the phone call, the bar, all those shots he’d taken…Talking to the dude who’d made him laugh even though he was the one who’d just lost his brother. Flirting, taking him home, letting him take control…

 

Fuck, Dean thought, closing his eyes tightly. The light from his alarm clock wasn’t what woke him. It was Cas sleepily kissing his neck, tickling him with his scruff.

 

Oh my god. He’d slept with a _man_. He’d done the one fucking thing he’d sworn he’d never do. The thing that basically gave into what he was.

 

“Dean.” Cas groaned quietly in his ear, sounding like he was still asleep, but moving to pet at Dean’s arms, up and down, continuing to nose at his neck.

 

Dean’s train of thought immediately came to a halt, tensing all over with fear at having to answer the man behind him. They were on their sides, everything from shoulders to feet were touching, creating a warm line of heat he’d been unconsciously leaning back into. Their close proximity meant he could feel fucking everything.

 

Including the hard dick pressed against his backside.

 

Holy _shit_.

 

Seeming to rouse himself a little, Cas was oblivious to Dean’s sudden panic. His hands went from stroking his arms, down, down, slowly until he was cupping Dean’s dick. Apparently, Cas wasn’t the only one with morning wood.

 

Squirming a little in his panic, Dean only managed to wedge himself closer to the man holding him tight, rocking his hips unintentionally into the hand that was jacking him lazily.

 

“Cas,” he whispered, trying to get the words out without them wobbling. Without his permission, his body was reacting, his breathing coming fast, teeth biting into his lower lip. Anything touching his dick felt good, no matter what his mind was screaming at him to stop this _right now_.

 

“Don’t worry beautiful, I’ll take care of you,” Cas promised before grabbing Dean’s leg to hitch it up and around his own thigh. Opening him up.

 

For the first time, he realized how wet it felt down there. Had it only been a few hours since his whole world had been turned upside down? And most importantly, was he going to stop it from happening again?

 

The answer was obviously no, since Cas kissed his neck again while carefully lining himself up with Dean’s opening, testing how stretched he was, and how wet he still was from the lube from before. He couldn’t stop him. It still felt too good. Even as Cas pushed forward, breaching him with the tip of his bulbous cock, seemingly satisfied that Dean was ready from their previous fuck, his body wanted _more_.

 

How was that even fucking possible?! He’d slept with a guy once, and now his body was on auto-pilot, ready and willing to take a cock up his ass, when the ideas had revolted him for fucking years? Was he still dreaming? How could this be fucking happening, he thought as his hips rocked back to take in more of Cas without him thinking about it.

 

Then Cas was fully seated inside him.

 

Dean gasps, trying to tense up again, but his body doesn’t listen to him. Swiveling his hips, moving in small circles to get himself used to the fullness, breath coming in pants, Dean decides to stop over thinking this. He did it once, and he can do it again.

 

“Mmmm….You feel so good, Dean. So tight for me. Can you come on my cock, beautiful? Is that what you want?” Cas said in his ear, pressing damp kisses to his now overheated skin.

 

“Yes,” he hears himself say in a breathy moan.

 

“Good boy.”

 

And then Cas is holding his hips in place while Cas fucks up and into him, setting a fast and brutal pace right away, giving him no time to catch his breath or find somewhere for his hands. He ends up gripping his sheets for dear life as Cas grunts in his ear, filling up Dean in every way possible, cock slapping relentlessly against Dean’s ass.

 

This feels completely different when he’s not totally wasted. So much more intense, as Cas hitches his leg up higher to slot into his body, somehow going deeper than he was before. Dean keeps making these little _mmh mmph mmm_ sounds as Cas ramps up his rhythm, biting down harder on hip lip, trying desperately to hold back his moans. Mortified by his body’s reactions.

 

Cas gets in four more deep thrusts before finding and nailing his prostate.

 

And then all bets are off.

 

“Harder,” he moans, closing his eyes and giving into the pleasure. Cas’s cock feels so fucking good inside him. Why was he freaking out so much before? This was awesome.

 

Moaning in agreement, Cas starts thrusting harder, so hard Dean can’t match his pace anymore, giving in and just letting Cas take whatever he wants. He can barely hear the wet suctioning sound of Cas’s cock fucking his ass over his loud and now unrestrained moans. He’d never been a loud one in bed before. Guess this was a night/day of firsts all around.

 

“Dean,” Cas pants, “Are you close?”

 

_So_ fucking close.

 

But he can’t breathe, and he definitely can’t respond. While his body continues with the rocking motion, his head moving forward and back with the impact, Dean feels around for Cas’s hand before bringing it to his leaking dick. And Cas is coming, moan muffled by biting softly into the flesh at Dean’s shoulder, not breaking the skin.

 

And it’s only now Dean comes to the realization that Cas was not wearing a condom.  Because while he can feel a shooting warmth deep inside him, it’s the feeling of Cas’s knot that sets him off and makes him see stars. It’s huge. And it fills every single gap inside him, making him feel as if he’d been missing a part of himself all this time.

 

Helpless to do anything else, Dean writhes on the knot inside of him, squeezing his muscles down to milk Cas until he had nothing left. He wanted it all. Right. Now. And it doesn’t stop, he just keeps coming and coming while Dean arches into the small movement of Cas’s hips, barely able to move while it locks them in place, but unable to resist the intoxicating feeling.

 

“I told you, I’d knot you Dean,” Cas pants, breathing just as hard as Dean. “And I knew you’d enjoy it.” He finishes, as he kisses the side of Dean’s still slack mouth.

 

He wasn’t wrong.

 

Dean could feel himself drifting off again, lulled by the soft rocking movements of Cas’s hips against him. Only moving a half an hour later as Cas’s knot goes down and slips out of him, turning until he can tuck himself into Cas’s warmth again, and sighing as Cas wraps an arm around to bring him closer.

 

 

 

 

 

The next time he wakes, it’s past noon, and he’s alone. But there’s no mistaking what happened this time. The evidence is dripping down his legs.

 

He let a man fuck him. Not once, but twice.He'd let an _alpha,_ fucking  _knot_  him. And he couldn’t blame it on the alcohol this time. There was nothing and no one to blame but himself.

 

His dad was right about him all along. He was so fucking weak. What he had thought was a way to prove his father wrong last night, only served to do the opposite. And now here he was, naked and shivering, with someone else’s come painting his backside and insides like a common whore. Head pounding, the nausea swept through him, making him feel hot all over, so disgusted with himself he thought he was going to puke. There was no going back now.

 

Clenching his eyes shut to fight back the tears itching at the back of his eyes, he couldn’t imagine how this could get any worse.

 

He shouldn’t have jinxed himself, or challenged the fucking universe, because a minute later, Cas walks back into the room with nothing on except for a pair of _his_ boxers. And he was carrying two bowls of cereal. He musta been in the kitchen, then, walking around _his_ apartment like he owned the place. Suddenly, Dean was fucking pissed. All his pent up emotion turned to a broiling anger, red hot and inching towards hatred. This man had fucking ruined him. He’d told him he wasn’t gay, and still the man pushed. And now, Dean didn’t know who he was anymore.

 

“Good morning. Although technically it is the afternoon, I believe the sentiment is the same.” Cas says, while sitting down on the edge of the bed, obviously not catching Dean’s glare. So much for being a people reader.

 

“What the fuck are you doing, man?” Dean ground out.

 

Cas tilted his head at him, looking confused. “Eating breakfast? I brought you some as well.” He said, offering him the other bowl.

 

When Dean didn’t try to take it, he placed both bowls on the floor, finally noticing the anger radiating off of him. “Is there something wrong, Dean?” he asked.

 

“Actually there is,” he spit acidly, “the fact that you’re still here, dude.”

 

He could see how hurt Cas was by his words, but he didn’t regret them in the slightest. Not when he was naked and vulnerable, trying to hide every part of himself that he could with his come stained bedding. No, he refused to feel sorry for this.

 

He was doing what he should have done last night.

 

“I don’t understand, Dean. Did I do something to offend you?” Cas asked, then paling noticeably, “Please tell me I didn’t hurt you, Dean.”

 

“Forget hurting me, dude. You basically took advantage of me while I was drunk. You knew I had too much to drink, but that didn’t stop you, you _got off_ on it, you asshole!” Dean said, voice rising until he was yelling the last word.

 

Cas looked like he’d just been punched, knocking all the air from his lungs.

 

“No,” he whispered, face crumpling, blue eyes becoming wet, “No, Dean. That’s not what happened. I thought…you were,” he mumbles, looking for words, “Dean, I had _no_ idea, I thought last night was mutual, I am _so_ sorry. Please, you have to understand…” he rasps.

 

“Shut up, _Castiel._ ” Dean sneers, intentionally making his full name sound like an insult. All he wanted was to make him hurt as badly as he hurt right now. Someone else needed to feel like the earth was crumbling beneath their feet for once. Even though he knew deep down, that every word he was spitting right now was a lie, he couldn’t stop.

 

Something of Dean’s bluff seems to show itself, because Cas’s face suddenly hardens.

 

“Dean, if this you’re way of coping after what happened last night, you need to tell me. Because what you said is inexcusable, and unfair. While we both were more or less under the influence of alcohol, you gave your explicit consent for the nights proceedings, as did I. No amount of internalized homophobia will change that.”

 

Dean gasped in indignant anger, sitting up to get into Cas’s face. “You have no right, buddy. _No right_ to tell me one goddamn thing. This is all _your_ fault!” he yelled, shaking, but with anger this time.

 

It only made him angrier as Cas’s face abruptly changed from anger to pity. “Dean-“

 

“Get the fuck out of my house, Cas!” he interrupted before Cas could say anything else condescending, or worse, pitying. He didn’t want or need anyone’s goddamn pity.

 

When Cas didn’t move, continuing to stare at him with those fucking intense blue eyes, Dean leaned over to shove him as hard as he could off the bed. “I said GET OUT!” he screamed as Cas stumbled, trying to catch his balance before face planting on the floor, “Right the fuck now, dude.”

 

Turning around to gape at him, Cas had little options but to leave. There was no point in trying to argue with Dean. He was obviously upset, and unable to listen to reason at the moment. He had no idea how this had escalated so quickly, he thought as he hastily searched for his haphazardly thrown clothes, all the while feeling the wrath radiation from the bed, but he resolved that this would not be the end for them. They’d shared a connection last night, and no matter how hard Dean fought against himself, he was determined to make Dean see that. Hopefully, he’d get the opportunity. Currently, he doubted he ever would, but only time would tell.

 

Finally retrieving everything he’d came here with, he took one more look back at Dean.

 

What he saw was heart breaking. Dean looked so vulnerable and lost, nevermind angry. Yes, only time would tell.

 

“Good-bye, Dean.”

 

Dean watched him go, choosing not to respond. When he heard the front door click shut, he dropped back onto the bed in a defeated heap. What the fuck had he done?

 

Cas didn’t deserve that. No one deserved that. God, could he do anything right?!

 

Everything he came in contact with only left so much worse off than before. He was fucking poison. Infecting anything in his vicinity, and spreading his own misery to anything that moved.

 

Drawing the blankets over his head, trying to block out the world, it was time to mope. God knows he’d earned it.

 

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm kind of on a roll right now. Hopefully I can keep it up! Thank you to everyone who has left kudos and comments, they seriously make my day, and inspire me to keep going!
> 
> Warning for some serious angst. My poor Dean.

The next few weeks fly by in a torrent of self- loathing and denial. And alcohol. Lots and lots of alcohol.

 

After that night, every single part of himself that made him, _him_ , changed. It was like he was having a midlife crisis, without the erectile dysfunction and beer belly. He knew he was probably over reacting, but he just couldn’t shake the feeling that he was now something _different._ Somehow _less_ Dean Winchester than he was before.

 

While he’d anticipated his moping period might last longer than a day or two, it was almost a month later and he still felt so _off._ And it was starting to show.

 

His work was suffering, he was often spaced out and making stupid mistakes, or down right sloppy because he can’t quite summon the energy to care anymore. It was just too much effort. The garage used to be his salvation, his place to let loose and do something he loved, but now it was just somewhere to kill time.

 

Because the only thing he did besides work was lay around watching tv or sleep. Despite the rumors that eating makes you feel better, he’d found that it wasn’t true in his case. Nothing sounded good, and at the end of a good day, all he would eat was a pb&j and an apple. Besides the beer, that is. At least his money was going to a good cause.

 

He’d gotten so drunk once, he’d woken up on the floor, his room trashed, and glass from his bottle shattered everywhere. It was two weeks back, and he’d come home to a note on his door reading;

 

_Hello Dean._

_I’m sorry for everything. I hope you’ll give me a second chance?_

_Call me. Please._

 

With his number scribbled in almost indecipherable chicken scratch. There was no doubt in his mind who’d left it there, even though he hadn’t signed his name. Only one person in the world had the power to make him go from zero to sixty in less than a minute. One person who witnessed his shame.  And that person was determined to remind him of the biggest mistake of his life.

 

Would his dad be jealous over the fact that someone else could reek even more havoc in his life than he could? Probably.

 

Two more weeks go by before his body starts to revolt against him. Probably fed up with the way he’s been eating and drinking, his stomach decides join in on all the fun and good times.

 

It’s Saturday, of course the day he gets to sleep in, when he’s jerked awake by the violent and desperate need to throw up. He barely makes it to the toilet in time to puke out his meager dinner and beer from last night. It’s fucking awful but hey, some Chinese food places were not always up to par. And it had been the first time he’d ordered dinner in a long time, so he hadn’t been too picky from where he’d ordered at the time. Picking the cheapest place had it’s downsides, and he would suffer through the consequences in manly silence. It wasn’t like he had anyone to bitch to anyway. The only person he talked to was Sam, and they’d already had their weekly call on Wednesday, when Sam got off work. He didn’t need to bother his brother with his petty problems. He already pretended that everything was fine when he talked to him, putting on a chipper tone and giving him false anecdotes of the week’s happening. To Sam, all was great and merry in Dean land.

 

If only it were true.

 

Unless food poisoning lasted a week and a half, he guessed that’s not what was making him throw up every fucking day at random ass times. It was mostly in the morning, usually waking him up early as fuck, forcing him to start his day _way_ earlier than he was comfortable with, but then it was happening at work, in the middle of the night, and it was driving him crazy. And getting harder to conceal. He knew the chinese food couldn’t have fucked him up _this_ badly. Fuck, he hoped he didn’t have the stomach flu. It’d been going around as the seasons changed, going from a humid summer to a brisk fall, and Ash was just getting over it. The little fucker better not have gotten him sick.

 

God, he felt awful. But the final straw wasn’t in the form of his out of control vomit.

 

No, it came at the end of the two weeks of when it’d started.

 

He’d woken up of his own volition for once, waking up slowly and lazing about instead of immediately getting up or needing to race to the toilet, when he’d rolled over into a wet spot.

 

What the fuck? He did _not_ remember having a wet dream last night, as his libido had taken a major hit along with his self-esteem, so why was there a cold spot marring his perfectly warm and cozy bed?

 

Reaching down to sleepily feel his dick for any accidental jizz, he confirmed that this was not the case. His dick was dry and soft still, just as it had been when he’d fallen asleep. Rolling over in the opposite direction to examine the spot, he froze in place. That had felt fucking weird. Dirty. Fuck this couldn’t be happening.

 

With dawning horror, Dean shakily reached behind himself with a single finger, prodding down the line of his crack beneath his boxers carefully, like he was about to diffuse a bomb.

 

It might as well have been, and it might as well have gone off.

 

Second thought, he decided that yes, he _did_ need to throw up. Right now.

 

Because he was…wet.

 

Slick in a way he hadn’t been since he was fucking fifteen.

 

Gagging and covering his mouth with the hand that wasn’t covered in _slick_ , he stumbles off the bed as fast as he could, trying to keep it in until he got to the toilet. Upon collapsing in front of the toilet and leaning over it, nothing came out except bile and a few wet coughs. For the first time since he’d gotten sick, he wished he had more to throw up. At least it would have given him more relief. Now he was still nauseous but with nothing in his stomach. He wanted to throw up a hundred times over to distract him from what was going on.

 

He hadn’t let himself cry at all since the whole think with _him_ happened, not wanting to give into any _more_ weakness, but he could feel tears gathering at the edges of his eyes now, clouding his vision and turning everything around him blurry. He was so tired. So done with all the shit being thrown at him around every corner, he thought as he sat down and wrapped his arms around his knees, trying to keep himself together.

 

This was not supposed to fucking happen. That doctor had _told_ him, that his body would stop reacting as an omega. Out of his problems at the moment, he hadn’t thought this would be one. He was supposed to have left that part of himself behind him.

 

But he could smell it, the cloying sweetness that had been the source of his nightmares when he was younger, attracting alphas and betas alike to it’s source. And he fucking feel it as it seeped through his underwear. Physical proof of what he was, and what he’d tried so hard to get rid of. There was no denying that his body was producing slick. Just like a girl.

 

Sniffling but refusing to let any tears fall, he ran his hands over his face and got his hitched breathing back under control. Fuck, he needed to get a grip so he could take care of this like a fucking adult.

 

Taking a deep breath, he got himself up off the floor with unsteady limbs to go searching for his cell phone. He’d had to replace his last one after he’d smashed it against the wall all those weeks ago. It was cheap, nothing flashy, and it was pretty easy to find since it only came in a weird metallic green color.

 

No more shitty clinics. He needed a legitimate doctor for legitimate answers. He couldn’t go on like this. Especially if he wanted this to remain a secret. Which he fucking did, of course.

 

He might as well call that first office he’d scheduled an appointment with before then. The one that had to cancel due to a family emergency or some shit. Hopefully they were over it by now, because he needed to be seen like yesterday. Hurriedly pulling up the number again, he listened to freak’in elevator music while he was immediately put on hold. The waiting was putting his nerves on edge, and he could feel the divots in his hands from where his finger nails were digging into the flesh.

 

“Hello, this is Rachel form Doctor Novak’s department, thank you for holding, how may I help you today?” came the practiced greeting in a way too peppy voice. Oh right, not everyone was as miserable as he was, he reminded himself.

 

“Yeah uh, hi. I need an appointment. As soon as possible.”

 

“Okay! Are you a first time patient?”

 

“Yepp.”

 

“Okay, last name, sir?” he could hear her typing away on what he guessed was a computer.

 

“Winchester.”

 

“Okay, Mr. Winchester, the soonest Dr. Novak will be able to see you is next Tuesday at 4:00pm. Does that work for you?”

 

Fuck, he was off Monday, but worked from 10:00am-2:00pm on Tuesday. That meant he’d have to go to work like this. Shit.

 

“Are you sure there’s nothing sooner?” he asked, clutching his phone hard, trying to keep the desperation out of his voice.

 

“I’m sorry sir, he’s all booked up until then.” Well as least she sounded genuine.

 

“Alright then,” he sighed, “that’s fine.”

 

If it was so fine, then why did he feel like he’d just signed his own death warrant?

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a filler chapter, needed to set up the next! Sheesh, the next two should be a doozy!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't hate me.

 

 

After he hung up the phone, he didn’t know what to do. But after catching a whiff of himself again, he decided a shower was definitely in order. He’d only been wearing a shirt and boxers to bed, but they felt stifling; especially his boxers which were plastered to his skin with slick. He needed to get that shit off him right now- it was making him gag- and he had to fight the urge to cover his nose so he couldn’t smell it anymore.

 

Walking  into the bathroom again while he stripped mindlessly, he paused before losing his underwear when he caught his own reflection in the mirror.

 

He looked like death warmed over.

 

His skin was ghostly pale, which only served to highlight the deep purple bags under his eyes from lack of sleep. They weren’t just under his eyes though, they surrounded them completely, giving him a gaunt, sunken in look. And he’d lost weight again. He could tell from his cheeks, which once had been full and defined, but were now as flat and bony as the rest of him. At least he couldn’t see his ribs yet, and his stomach actually looked okay, if not a little more pudgy than usual, where there used to be definition. Probably from the booze.

 

How had no one said anything to him? He saw Bobby and Ash on an almost daily basis as well as customers he’d known from around town for years. Was he invisible? Or just nobody cared?

 

It didn’t matter, he reminded himself as he tore his eyes away and finished stripping. The only thing that mattered was getting back to the way things were before. It wasn’t great before, but it was still a huge improvement to his life _now._

When he stepped into the shower, he immediately turned the nozzle to the right without waiting for it to heat up. Frigid water poured over his head, sending a shock all throughout his system while he closed his eyes and let it stream down his back, washing away the evidence of what had happened between his legs.

 

But it wasn’t stopping he realized in a panic, his eyes snapping open, and his breath coming out in a gasp.

 

It was still coming out of him, even with water continuing to wash it away, he could feel it drip down from his ass to mingle with the water streaming down his legs. Milky white, almost translucent, but clearly discernable from the water, and a whole different texture to boot, the substance was everywhere.

 

Frantically, Dean reached for the wash cloth hanging on a hook in front of his face, not bothering to grab soap, and, clenching his eyes shut, reached behind himself to scrub between his cheeks a few times, trying in vain to keep it from touching his fingers or hand.

 

Still, he didn’t feel clean. He felt tainted and dirty, and _wrong._

 

He bit his lip, and scrubbed until he was raw. Until he knew it would hurt to sit down for the rest of the day. He knew the skin must be red and irritated by now, but he didn’t care. He did his best.

 

Doing a perfunctory rinse and shampoo after he’d given up, he turned off the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist, heading towards the bed immediately, not caring that he would be getting his bed wet. It would be getting wetter soon. He was tired, even just the small effort in the shower had exhausted him. Hopefully, he would sleep until Tuesday came.

 

 

 

Sunday passed in much the same way, as well as Monday.

 

Meaning he woke up, threw up, showered to get all the shit off of him, ate, and slept. Sometimes switching it up to watch tv in the small living room, or shower again when the accumulation of slick made him feel like there were ants crawling beneath his skin. The only thing he did differently, was taking the alcohol out of the equation. It was probably making the nausea worse. And while he wished he could take the edge off with a nice buzz, anything that made him feel worse in the long haul wasn’t worth it.

 

When Tuesday _finally_ came, it was met with both relief and dread.

 

Relief that he’d hopefully get this shit taken care of, and dread over the fact that he had to go to work smelling of flowers and rainbows and _sex._. The only precaution he could think to take was to double his scent blockers, but even then, his scent was barely dimmed, but hopefully muddled enough not to raise too many red flags at the garage. His game plan was to keep his distance, and to hope that his previously surly and withdrawn attitude kept them from seeking him out. Then he’d be in the clear.

 

But when he arrived at work and tried to slip past Benny who was up at the desk punching in numbers, a big, beefy arm blocked his way.

 

“Dean Winchester, you hold it right there,” came the southern drawl Dean used to make fun of so much. It was just too damn easy to mimic. But this was definitely not the time for jokes. Benny usually let him pass with just a distracted hello or the universal nod of manly acknowledgement. They hadn’t really spoken since before everything.

 

But Benny was an alpha. If anyone could scent him, it would be one of them.

 

“S’up man?”

 

He didn’t want to give himself away if Benny didn’t suspect anything. But internally, he was sweating like a whore in church. What would he do if Benny called him out?

 

“Dean, Dean, Dean….you sly dog. Here we were, worrying that you’d gotten some fatal disease or you’d been right dumped,” he said as he stepped back behind the counter and leaned his chin onto one fist, smirking up at Dean.

 

Well that was fucking vague. And confusing, but hey, at least they _had_ noticed how shitty he looked.. And not said anything.

 

“What the hell are you talking about?”

 

“A little roll in the hay before work isn’t something you need to be ashamed of, my friend,” he laughed. “I can smell her on you. A little omega beauty, hmm?”

 

Oh _fuck._ He _could_ smell him.

 

But Benny assumed he’d just slept with an omega, thinking his scent was left over from a  female one. His scent must have been muddled enough to give off hints, but not his full blown butterfly shit scent. There was a God. He’d just been given his cover on a silver fucking platter.

 

Plastering on his patented cocky half smile, he turns and continues on to his work station. He could play the confident ladies man no problem. That used to be who he was.

 

“Mind your business, you nosy old lady,” he calls over his shoulder. Dean had always teased him about the domesticity that came with being mated. This was their usual thing, and slipping back into after all these weeks was surprisingly easy.

 

“Oh stuff it Winchester! You’ve been moping around here, look’in like death on wheels for weeks. We’ve all been worried bout you, Boss. I’m real glad to see a little  of the Dean I know and…tolerate,” he says with a wink.

 

“Don’t be talking about Little Dean, man,” he joked back, “It’ll only make the jealousy that much more real for you.”

 

Chuckling and tipping the weird little hat he liked to wear, Benny left him to his work.

 

Dean immediately slumped against the car waiting for him on the dock, sighing in relief. That had been way too damn close for comfort.

 

Now, all he had to do was get through this shift He knew he was leaking through the toilet paper he’d stuffed in his underwear before he’d left, but there was nothing he could do about that. Hopefully his new cover would hold.

 

 

 

 

Fortunately, the rest of his shift went off without a hitch, and sooner then he was mentally prepared for, he was looking for parking in the huge ass parking lot of the hospital. Guess it was a doctor’s office _and_ a freak’in hospital. Who knew?

 

When he makes his way through the automatic doors, he’s immediately overwhelmed, unsettled by so many _people._ They’re everywhere- speeding along hallways, limping with a cane, shuffling papers, tying a shoe, chasing a stray child, staring at him.

 

They’re _all_ staring at him. They know. They _know._

 

He’s about to bolt when a sweet looking women with a nametag reading ‘Sarah’ stops walking and looks at him with sympathy.

 

“Can I help you, Sir?”

 

Clearing his throat to dislodge the fear that had come out of nowhere, he barely manages to reply brilliantly, “Uh. Novak?”

 

“Oh, Doctor Novak.”

 

Thank god she’d understood what that meant, because he had no other information to offer.

 

“Okay Sir, what you’re gonna want to do, is take the elevator up to the third floor. Turn right, and his office is the fourth door on the left, the door with the little angels hanging on it.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

“No problem, Sir, you have a nice day.”

 

“Yeah, uh, you too.”

 

And then she was off, and Dean had to find a way through all of these people. It was tuesday for chist’s sake, why was everyone and their mother here?

 

One treacherous path and a claustrophobic elevator ride later, he got off on his floor and turned right. It was like a fucking raze maze up here. White door after white door, hallways seemingly to never end on either side. There was only one break from the monotony, and it happened to be his destination, the fourth door on the left.

 

It was almost covered completely in little cut-out, obviously hand drawn, paper angels. Each one colorful and unique in it’s own way.

 

Seeing them there, compared to all the other bland white doors and walls helped put his mind at ease a tiny bit. What could happen to him in an office adorned with innocent little angels?

 

Steeling his nerve, he opens the door to a small waiting room and reception area. It’s the typical patient’s set up, bland walls and well used chairs. There’s a small television hanging in the corner, and on the walls, there pictures of landscapes.

 

“Come over here, and sign in, sugar,” a rich voice comes from behind the corner of the reception desk, “then I’ll give you some paper work. It’ll only take a few.”

 

Walking further into the room to see whom the voice belonged to, he sees a dark skinned woman with wide, dark brown eyes, wearing a set of scrubs with purple flowers, and a name tag reading ‘Missouri’.

 

Dean can feel her staring at him as he signs in, taking in his too big black hoodie and baggy jeans, and all the way from his face to where the desks cuts off her view. Tsking quietly, she says, “Why haven’t we seen you sooner sweetheart, you look like one more gust of wind woulda blown you over.”

 

Frowning but accepting the paper work she gave him, while handing over his I.D. and insurance card, he’s not quite sure how to take that. Her voice is sweet, giving off a maternal vibe, and he doesn’t think she meant it as an insult.

 

“I always look like this, ma’am.” He says respectfully. She wouldn’t know differently.

 

“Don’t lie to me honey.” Missouri says with sad eyes, “It’s okay. As soon as you’re done with that, we’ll see if we can’t help you out with your troubles, okay?”

 

Nodding, he turns to find a chair, sitting a polite distance away from a woman wearing a flip flop dress, and a couple looking two seconds away from making out right here and now. It smelled like flowers and disinfectant in here, masking any one’s particular scent. This was worlds away from the clinic, and he was comforted by the other people’s presence, and not that he would admit to it, Missouri’s as well. He thought she was about to reach over the desk and freak’in hug him or something. And he didn’t think he could refuse any kind of comfort right now. He was too raw.

 

The paper work wasn’t making him feel any better either. The first section had boxes he was supposed to check; alpha, beta, omega, already in order from the best to worst. He’d done a pretty good job thus far of avoiding the doctor’s and hospitals alike, so they didn’t have much of a medical history on him. All they knew were the barest bones, the only basic facts that mattered, so some of these questions he was filling out for the first time. At least you could confidently put ‘none’ on the line where it asked for the start and last date of his last heat. Hopefully, the stupid clinic had been right about that one. He’d rather cut off his arm than go through that again.

 

 Noise on his right distracted him slightly as he was filling out his symptoms. The tv was playing a commercial about permanent birth control, showing a harassed but happy looking women chasing after a kid at the park, and then her stating the perfect size of her family. The little girl was pretty freaki’in cute, the sound of her laughter making him smile a little, with two of her front teeth missing and her hair in two curly pony tails. He turned back to what he was doing when the commercial changed to one about diabetes, going back to fill out his family history, when a commercial about a Salmonella outbreak came on.

 

Apparently there were a bunch of cases popping up because of bad sea food or something? Symptoms including nausea, fever, and abdominal cramps. So maybe he had that, and he wasn’t dying! God, what had his come to, when he was actually hoping for salmonella, he thought as walked back up to hand Missouri the finished paperwork.  Her eyes immediately went to the checked box at the top, nodding to herself like that was what she’d thought all along.

 

That was a first.

 

“Alright sweetie, all omegas need to provide us with a routine urine sample before the doctor sees you.” She says as she opens a drawer down by her feet and pulls out a small bag with a cup and lid inside, “you need to fill it till it’s past this line right here, seal it, then place it back in the bag. Understand? Okay, the bathroom is behind that door and to your left. My friend Charlie will be waiting when you’re done.”

 

She smiles at him one more time, before shooing him on his way, and Dean hurries to get it over with. Because someone else handling his pee if fucking gross. It’s probably to check for dehydration or some shit, but he just doesn’t see the point. There had to be a more sanitary way.

 

 When he’s done, there’s a tiny red head waiting for him outside the door.

 

“Hey!” she waves with a grin, “I’m Charlie, A.K.A.; the Queen of Moons or Your Majesty. Whichever you’d prefer. And it would be my pleasure to take your piss.”

 

Okay, he liked this girl. Especially because she was wearing blue scrubs patterned with star wars insignias.

 

“Dean,” he says as he hands her the bag.

 

“Alright, this way Master Dean, a few quick things to take care of, and then your room awaits you.”

 

She turns with a dramatic flourish, leading the way to the last door at the end of the hall. There must be at least ten of them, and he can hear a low murmur from one as he passes it. Hopefully he wouldn’t have to wait long.

 

After she takes his height, weight, and blood pressure, she leaves him in the room by himself to wait with a salute and a smile, shutting the door behind her. He can hear it as she places his brand spank’in new file in the holder hanging on the outside of the door.

 

And then there is silence.

 

No noise except him taking a seat on the white crinkly paper over the reclining bed. Nothing but beige walls and body posters to distract him from what was coming. It’d all gone relatively smooth up until this point, the quirky staff helping to take his mind off the severity of what ever was making him sick as well as the leaking mess he hadn’t been able to touch when he was providing the urine sample. But now the pleasantries were over, and the sterile disinfectant was starting to burn his nose, taking over all his senses.

 

About ten minutes later, he’s shivering in the chilled room when he finally hears something approaching his door, obviously taking the folder from the door. Closing his eyes when he sees the door handle start to move, he takes a deep breath to settle himself.

 

The first thing Dean takes in is a fucking _amazing_ smell. Such a contrast to the burning clean smell from before, it smells like Christmas and pie and _sex_ , and just plain ol’ _good._ He keeps his eyes closed for one more second, desperately trying to hold on to the smell.

 

But his eyes pop open wide and fearful as he hears a voice. A deep, very _familiar_ , gravelly voice. The one that was front in center in his nightmares.

 

“Mr. Winchester,” he says as he walks in, looking down at the file he’s reading, “What seems to-“

 

Fuck. The doctor stutters to a stop in shock when he looks up from the papers. Wide blue eyes meet even wider green.

 

All the air is suddenly sucked from the room. But he somehow the doctor finds enough to say one word.

 

“Dean?”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first real cliffhanger, and I think I like the power! *laughs evilly* But don't worry, the next chapter will be coming soon!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're lucky I like you people and have no life at the moment.

 

 

“Please tell me this is a nightmare.”

 

Castiel is gaping at him, eyes bugging out and mouth hanging open when it looks like something physically hits him. He spins around to face the cupboard and sink, looking like he might be covering his nose. All the while Dean is stuck, unable to move due to this new spin on the horror show that is his life. God, he thinks back, doctor with a family emergency the same day Cas’s brother dies. What are the odds? But there was still no chance in hell he would have ever predicted _this_ would happen.

 

But if this was a nightmare, why did it smell so fucking _good_. Even though he knew now where or rather _who_ \- it was coming from, he wanted to take the smell and roll around in it for a few days, or make it into a candle or some shit. He’s never smelled anything this good before. His blockers must have worn off…

 

“Dean. Dean Winchester? There must be a mistake…” Cas says, ignoring Dean’s comment and continuing to frantically look through the papers in his hand, pausing to look back at Dean a few times in disbelief. Of course this would be happening to him. _Of course_ it would.

 

“Dean. I- I can smell you, and it says on your file that you are actually an O-“

 

“I know what I am.” He cuts off, unwilling to hear the word coming out of the alpha’s mouth.  “And I don’t need _you_ to remind me of that, _Doctor_. And what do you mean you can smell me?”

 

“I can identify you as an omega by you’re scent. It smells slightly distorted, but your gender designation is clear as of now.”

 

Fuck. He’d said it. That word. Unable to help cringing, he realized that he had to get over it. That was why he was here.

 

He wondered if his scent had altered since he had spoken with Benny. It must have if his scent was now so recognizable. Or maybe it was just Castiel, and his people reading shit? When he left here he didn’t want to be attacked by scent- crazed alphas, so hopefully it was just this one alpha. And hopefully he would be prescribed something that would let him slip back into anonymity.

 

“But that night, at the bar Dean,” Castiel says as he takes a step closer,” you smelled like a-“

 

Just the mention of that night has him up and moving in a second’s time, going for the big trash can with a hazardous waste sign, fumbling it open just in time to throw up his breakfast noisily. It’s the icing on the cake, this man getting to see him vulnerable again, and he shutters as he tries to breathe between gagging.

 

There’s suddenly a warm gentle pressure on his back, as he coughs once more and wipes his mouth with the sleeve of his hoodie. He reels back as he realizes that the pressure was Castiel’s hand rubbing his back in small circles.

 

“Don’t touch me, man.” He says hoarsely, throat sore and sounding exactly like he’d just thrown up.

 

He moves to shrug past Castiel, but he freezes in his tracks when they’re pretty much  face to face, and Cas’s scent is inches a way from him. Holy fucking shit. This guy was already weirdly magnetic before, but now Dean could _really_ smell him for the first time. His muscles relax slightly as he breathes it in, leaning closer to the heat he can feel radiating off the alpha and to inhale more of that freak’in addicting smell. His nausea slowly begins to fade, and his shivers lessen in their intensity.

 

 He’s torn out of his trance harshly by the sensation of new slick trickling out of him.

 

Aaaaaaand the nausea is back.

 

Cas, who seemed to be in a trance of his own, must read that on his face, and the weirdly intense look he was giving Dean turns into something a whole lot gentler. Grabbing Dean’s arm in a loose hold despite Dean feebly trying to shake him off, he guides Dean back to the bed, waiting till he’s fully reclined to speak again. He’s too tired to fight him.

 

“How long have you been sick, Dean?” he says softly.

 

Too fucking long is his immediate answer that pops up in his head, but the fight has gone out of him. It’s time to get down to business anyway. He can play nice for a little while.

 

“A few days maybe. Barfing started about two weeks back.”

 

Cas looks torn between not wanting to step farther away from his bed, and going to retrieve Dean’s chart from where he’d dropped it on the floor when Dean had gotten sick.

 

Obviously professionalism won out, because he went to retrieve the file, but instead of taking the chair across from him, he snagged the little rolling stool and rolled it as close as was socially acceptable before looking down at it again.

 

He had to focus to stay in Doctor Mode. Dean was obviously very sick. He’d noticeably lost weight, and he was sporting very unhealthy looking rings around his eyes. As much as he knew Dean didn’t want to see him, he knew that Dean _needed_ help. _His_ help. He was still in shock, but he knew he could at least do the job set before him.

 

Despite Dean’s wonderful scent clogging up his nose and throat. He’d had to hurriedly move to hide the surprise erection that had arisen when he’d originally caught the scent. He’d never smelled anything like it before. Never reacted to a scent like that before either. Everything about this man had him at odds.

 

“Has this ever occurred while taking the suppressants you were prescribed?” He asks as he scans the list of current medications Dean filled out. It looked like Dean was on a very high dosage of a very potent drug.

 

“No. I don’t get sick. Like ever.”

 

“And you’ve never gone into heat unexpectedly while on them? You marked ‘none’ for last date of most recent heat.”

 

Dean sighs and looks away, folding his arms across his chest defensively. “No. I haven’t had a heat since I presented at fifteen.”

 

“Okay,” he says as he jots it down in his notes, “is there any other symptoms that are currently bothering you?”

 

He’d marked stomach cramps, nausea, chills, trouble sleeping, and other.

 

Closing his eyes in mortification, he couldn’t believe he had to tell this particular man why he needed to be fixed as soon as possible. He honestly wished a hole in the ground would open up beneath him and swallow him whole.

 

“I’m uh… I-I’m producing- my body- it’s… slick.”

 

Castiel eyes widened slightly before he automatically inhaled. Wrong move.

 

_Doctor mode, Doctor mode, Doctor mode_ ……he chanted to himself, trying to keep his body and mind under control. He could do this. He owed it to Dean to do the best work that he could do.

 

“It’s okay, Dean.” He breathes, trying to soothe the obviously frazzled man, “it’s perfectly natural. Has this ever occurred while taking your suppressants?” He could see the visible way Dean relaxed to the sound of his voice, reacting unconsciously to the comfort he tries to intone. Still so receptive.

 

“No. I mean,” his eyes finally open to meet the doctor’s, “not when I was on them.” He says, but he doesn’t sound too confident. Wait.

 

“Does that mean you are not currently on your suppressants?”

 

That might explain the vomiting, his bodies come down from such a powerful suppressant. A new suppressant would also cause symptoms until his body grew accustomed to it.

 

“No. I went to a clinic a few weeks back. I was having cramps and was moody as hell. They told me I didn’t need them anymore.”

 

“They told you not to take your suppressants?”

 

“Uh, yeah. Said I didn’t need them.”

 

“So you weren’t prescribed a new one?” he asks incredulously, “Maybe a lower dosage or a more user friendly one?”

 

 What kind of doctor would have done something so ridiculous?! Someone who had been taking suppressants for the majority of their life could just not quit cold-turkey.

 

“No dude. Nothing.”

 

“Dean, I need to you to answer carefully, alright? This is really important.” He begins, still trying to keep Dean relaxed. Dean nods, showing that he’s listening.

 

“Do you remember the name of the clinic you went to? Or maybe the head Doctor’s name?”

 

“Why does that even matter?” Dean says in confusion, twisting around so he’s laying on his side to face him. Only highlighting how thin he’d become since he’s seen him last.

 

“Please Dean, it matters very much.” He had a sinking suspicion he knew what the answer would be, but he was fervently hoping that would be wrong.

 

“Uhh… the guy who saw me was a kid. Bucky or something?” Dean says as he tries to wrack his brain, “But the name on the paper I signed was someone different for sure… Ferguson, or something I think?”

 

“Fergus Crowley?” he asks closing his eyes.

 

“Yeah- that’s it.”

 

So he was right then. And this had gotten slightly more complicated.

 

“Dean. That clinic has been closed for a month now, due to malpractice.”

 

“What does that even mean, man?” Dean asks, starting to pick up that something is wrong.

 

“It means what the clinic was shut down, Dean. Crowley is a notorious name in the industry. Going from state to state, leaving law suit after law suit. This time he was caught, and is going to trial. I highly doubt the man you saw, the man Crowley hired, had his certification.”

 

“You mean he wasn’t really a real doctor?!”

 

“It’s very likely that he wasn’t, Dean. How long ago was your appointment there?”

 

“Fuck,” Dean says with wide eyes, “about two months ago?”

 

Doing the math quickly in his head, he freezes when a new thought pops into his head. No, that couldn’t be it.

 

Trying not to show how afraid he suddenly is, he asks, “Was this before or after we met the first time, Dean?”

 

After they’d had unprotected sex? After he’d knotted him, and after Dean had stopped taking birth control?

 

His heart starts to race, and it feels like his heart is making it’s way slowly into his throat, cutting off his oxygen, and making the room seem suddenly so much smaller than before.

 

Dean still has no idea what’s happening. Still stuck on the whole not a doctor thing. He should’ve known better than to listen to someone younger than him. He’d remember that the next time Sammy tried to tell him what to do. Lost in thought, he doesn’t really notice Cas’s silent freak out. “Earlier that day, actually.”

 

Cas is suddenly up and pacing, startling Dean and making him jump.

 

“What the hell, dude?” he complains. Cas’s scent so close to him had been making him feel better. Not that he’d ever admit that out loud.

 

“Dean! Do  you even realize what this could mean?”

 

He doesn’t understand why Cas is suddenly so upset. “A big pay check for me?”

 

Don’t people involved in malpractice cases get monetary compensation or something like that? He could use the extra cash.

 

“No Dean.” Cas says as he stops his manic pacing to come closer, and now Dean can see how afraid he looks. Shit, is he dying or something? “You said you’ve been on suppressants since you presented up until very recently,” he explains, voice shaking, “Patients who stop taking suppressants would most commonly do so when they are ready to start trying for children.”

 

His stomach drops. He can see where this going. “They-they told me! They told me that I couldn’t have children. He said I’m barely even a…you know what.”

 

“But he wasn’t a doctor, Dean!” he says loudly, voice echoing in the small room, finally losing his calm and collected demeanor completely, “And as much as you would like to deny it, we had unprotected intercourse that very night and the morning after!”

 

Dean couldn’t breathe. He was starting to hyperventilate, breath coming in ragged gasps. Noise narrowing down until all he could hear is snippets of Cas’s panicked mumbling.

 

 

“Twice as fertile after stopping suppressants….Throwing up… _morning_ sickness….slickness….that _scent_ ….Dean…Dean…DEAN!"

 

“Dean!”

 

“ _DEAN!”_

 

The panicked voice breaks through the whiteness surrounding him.

 

“Dean! I need you to breathe right now okay? Deep breath, copy me okay Dean?”

 

He hears and feels a deep breath being taken, and he does his best to mimic it, seemingly lost in his own body, unable to gain control of anything at the moment.

He can feel his heartbeat thrumming as fast as hummingbird wings, but a million times more heavy and a trillion times more painful. Each breath hurts. Like he’d just sprinted a mile or five without stopping. He feels another breath, and then he can smell something.

 

It’s in his face now. He can’t feel it but he can smell the amazing aroma. It has an automatic reaction on his body, his breathing slowing down to something less dangerous, and sensation slowly begins to creep back into his finger tips. He keeps his eyes closed though, unaware that he’d closed them in the first place.

 

“Good.” Someone sighs in his ear. It tickles. But he doesn’t want to move just yet, in case he loses the comfort from the scent.

 

“It’s okay, Dean…breathe…”

 

Finally his heartbeat matches the one he can feel close to his own. And he whimpers quietly when it’s suddenly shifting away from him. He realizes he was being cradled and pressed into something warm.

 

“Its okay, it’s okay. I’ll be right back, beautiful,” the voice says as fingers card gently through his hair, and he’s being lowered until he’s laying down again, “I just need to get the lab you took earlier. I’ll be back in ten seconds.”

 

There’s a light pressure at the top of his head, and then he’s all alone as he hears the door quietly shut.

 

He doesn’t bother to open his eyes. It’s starting to come back to him now. Why he’d practically blacked out, why he’d gone from normal to full- scale panic attack in the span of a few seconds. Opening his eyes right now will make this all too real. It’s better to pretend none of this is happening, and that when Cas comes back, all of this will have been a horrific joke…

 

He’s still closing his eyes when he hears the door open again. He can’t look up or move as he waits to hear the results of what he could only assume was a pregnancy test taken from his urine. Coming in here today, he _never_ would have guessed that this would happen. _Ever._

But the silence remains unbroken. It drags on for long minutes that feel like hours, neither of them saying a word.

 

The silence is answer enough, though.

 

When he opens his eyes, he’s unsurprised to see Cas, pale and ashen as he slumps against the door while clutching the paper that would completely change his entire life. He’s unsurprised when he meets two wide blue eyes, and watches Cas’s trembling lips as he whispers, “It’s positive.”

 

And he’s unsurprised when a beat later, he says, “You’re pregnant, Dean.”

 

 

Because he knew from the day that he’d presented, and probably from the day he’d been born, that he was completely and utterly, fucked.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think angst might be my thing.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this was a beast of a chapter. Hope it turned out all right! It's mostly in Cas's POV, because Dean's in a really dark place right now. But it'll get better from here, I promise!.......;)

 

 

 

The rest of his shift passes in a blur. He does his job, but at the end of the day, he knows he couldn’t recall exactly what he says or does. Castiel is on autopilot, a setting he is unfortunately very familiar with. He has an hour and a half. Then he can do what he really wants to do. What he really _needs_ to do, which is to follow Dean.

 

After he had dropped the metaphorical bomb, Dean hadn’t spoken, hadn’t even made a sound. When he’d met Dean eyes as he’d felt the rug being pulled from beneath his feet, all he got were dead eyes. Completely blank. No emotion, no inkling of the feelings he knew had to be in chaos inside of him leaked through that beautifully shattered man’s face. Nothing.

 

And that’s what scared him the most.

 

Dean was shutting down, and there was nothing he could do about it. He had gotten up without sparing him a parting glance, and left. Leaving behind only his devastation clear in his wake. He could still smell it on him.

 

He understood that Dean was in shock, and probably needed all the support he could get, but he _had_ to finish here. He was the head attending doctor, and he only had an hour and a half before he could chase Dean down and make sure he was alright. And they very much needed to talk. About everything. He was still reeling, too shocked to process everything himself, he couldn’t even imagine what Dean was feeling. Maybe sometime would do them both some good.

 

How had something that made such a huge impact on his life have only lasted half an hour? He desperately wanted to follow Dean yes, but this time allotted to him would help calm himself down, and help him to work through some things.

 

Besides, surely Dean had someone to talk to right now, go to for solace, someone to help him get through this that he _didn’t_ hate. Someone who hadn’t gotten him into this in the first place, he thought regretfully. He didn’t regret what they had done together, only that it had obviously hurt Dean. And was now hurting him more. The panic attack he’d witnessed hadn’t come from joy.

 

 

He’d thought of Dean many times since that night. Of the beautiful beta who had made such a horrible day into something he wished he could relive over and over. Dean was absolutely perfect. Even now, having suffered the obvious consequences of sickness, he had still managed to take his breath away and fill up his thoughts with green eyes and freckles.

 

But now, looking back, everything has changed.

 

Because Dean was and is a male Omega.

 

A now _pregnant_ male Omega.

 

And _he_ had done that.

 

There was no question of paternity. He remembered Dean insisting that he wasn’t gay, and he remembered Dean’s face when the lust had cleared and his horror and disgust had set in. Castiel had never seen so much hatred directed at him before. To this day, he still didn’t understand where he’d gone wrong and why Dean had said the things he’d said. But he intended to find out sooner rather than later.

 

Things couldn’t continue as they had before. While he had wanted Dean to utilize the note and number he left on his door, he knew better than to get his hopes up. Obviously Dean wanted nothing to do with him, he’d gotten that loud and clear. But their situation had just become way more complex. Something had to give.

 

He needed to fix this.

 

 

 

Finally his shift is done and he’s clocking out as quickly as he can. It’s a half and hour to Dean’s apartment and he can’t quite shake the feeling that time is of the essence. He needs to get to Dean.

 

If the man will let him in that is, he thinks in frustration. God, if Dean didn’t hate him before, he has to by now. Numbness begins to creep through his head, urging him to quit thinking about this. Probably delayed panic.

 

But he didn’t _know._ He hadn’t even _guessed._ As soon as he had glanced through the file on the door and then seen Dean waiting for him in the room, his mind had been slow to connect the dots. Not able to reconcile one with the other. Only the clear Omega scent that had hit him like lightening got through to him and alerted him to the truth. Dean couldn’t hide his scent any longer. This was the real Dean Winchester. Not the Dean he’d met at the bar that one night.

 

He must have been using heavy blockers to cover such a potent scent, aided along with the powerful and harsh suppressants he had been taking. It was the only reason that’s plausible, the only explanation as to why he hadn’t been able to scent him before. Even intimately, there was no indication of Dean being an Omega, no slick or scent of arousal. Unless he really had been too intoxicated to recall?

 

Why hadn’t Dean just told him in the first place? He couldn’t help but think as he pulled up to Dean’s apartment. Yes, Omega males were extremely rare, but it wasn’t his place to judge another living being. In his opinion, Omegas were the strongest and the most versatile of all humans, able to bare children regardless of sex. Frankly, he was disgusted by the traditionalists who were stuck in the past and refused to see Omegas as anything other than property. As submissive things that’s sole purpose was to be subservient to alphas will and whim. Those archaic ideals should have died way longer than fifty years ago. Omegas did not deserve the discrimination they had or still continue to face. It was completely ludicrous. Male or female, Omegas were to be cherished and respected.

 

Especially Dean.

 

Trudging up the three flights of stairs and taking a deep breath, Castiel summoned his courage and knocked on the door. He’d feel better when he could see him and smell him again. Probably his latent alpha tendencies rearing it’s protective and obtrusive head.

 

But there was no answer.

 

Knocking again, he waited and listened. Listened for any indication that Dean was there. Even that Dean was there and just didn’t intend on getting the door.

 

 

“Dean?” he calls and knocks one more time with no response.

 

His gut is telling him that Dean is inside though. He must be.

 

He knows this is wrong, and that if Dean really wishes to be undisturbed that this will only anger him further, but he can’t help but try the handle on the door. It’s unlocked.

 

Something could be wrong, Dean could be sick again. Or… he’d seen Dean’s face when he’d left. He didn’t want to believe that Dean would hurt himself, but he didn’t know him well enough to rule that out completely. He had to make sure. Even if he was wrong, it would give him peace of mind to check.

 

Slowly pushing the door open, he makes his way cautiously inside, looking both ways for signs of Dean. “Hello?” he calls, “Dean?”

 

Still nothing but silence. And that scent. That scent undiluted. It’s a hundred times worse than it was at the hospital, and it hits him like a wrecking ball, but he has to ignore it now. There are more important things.

 

The most obvious place to look would be his bedroom. It was, after all, a one- bedroom apartment. There was the kitchen area and the small living room which he could check off the list, then there was the bedroom and the bathroom. Going down the hallway, holding his breath in hopes that he might hear something from Dean and trying not to inhale any of the mouth watering scent at the same time, he continues until he’s standing in front of the closed bedroom door. Where this whole catastrophe began.

 

Knocking quietly, he hesitantly calls, “Dean?”

 

Again, he tries the door knob, but again he’s greeted with an empty room and silence. The bed is unmade, and there are clothes in the floor, but it doesn’t seem as if Dean was here recently. His heart is starting to pound again, and every time he doesn’t see Dean, his anxiety level shoots up at least three notches. His last hope is the bathroom. If he’s not in there, he doesn’t know what he’ll do. Call the police? He’d probably get laughed at for reporting a missing person two hours after he’d last seen him, and it’s not like he knew much about Dean accept that he was an Omega, and he was currently pregnant. He couldn’t account for habits or hang outs, where he’d go when he wasn’t at home. Those are the two attributes that scream at him the most, that would grab the most attention.

 

Leaving the bedroom, he goes across to the last closed door in the apartment. Silently, he prays that he will be in there, safe and sound. But if he was safe and sound, shouldn’t he have heard when someone was knocking on his door, calling his name, and then coming in uninvited? Dear Lord, Dean could be dying or dead behind the door, and he’s stuck out here worrying about it!

 

At this point, he’s dreading what’s behind this door, knowing if anything, it can’t be good.

 

Opening the door is a trial, feeling heavy and uncooperative, but his attention is immediately drawn to the floor. Where there’s about five or so pregnancy tests littered about. All of them reading positive as he bends down to inspect them. Dean must have stopped at a drug store on the way back, he thinks sadly. Maybe hoping that Castiel had been wrong. The next ting that hits him, is the smell of Omega sickness permeating the room. The last few weeks must have been awful on Dean.

 

But where is Dean?

 

Upon first glance, the bathroom appeared to be empty. But looking up from where he’s still kneeling on the ground, something catches his eye. A hand on the side of the tub. And nothing else.

 

“Dean?” he says in panic, getting off his knee and scrambling over to the tub.

 

What he sees chills him to the bone.

 

“Dean!”

 

Dean is sitting in the bath tub, fully clothed and staring at nothing. He’s sunken down until only his head and the tops of his hands are out of the water, and he’s pale and shivering. But there’s no blood, and Dean is breathing, he reminds himself, trying to quell his rising panic. He needs to stay calm for Dean. Obviously this was hitting Dean extremely hard.

 

“Dean?” he tries again much more gentle, crouching down so that’s he’s eye level with Dean.

 

He doesn’t respond. Reaching forward, he gently touches his shoulder that is half way submerged under the water. It’s then that he realizes Dean is sitting in freezing cold water. God, how long had he been in here? Not this whole time, surely?

 

At the touch though, Dean’s eyes slowly move from the wall in front of him to look at Castiel, without moving his head. It doesn’t look like he’s completely aware of what’s going on. Nothing registering enough for any emotion to flicker in those green eyes. His eyes remain glazed and unfocused, but at least he has his attention.

 

“Dean? I need to get you out of the tub, okay?” he says softly, “Can you help me with that, Dean?”

 

Dean only blinks in response. Nothing else moving on his face.

 

When he bends down further to lift and help Dean up from the backs of his armpits, Dean flinches away harshly, turning his face away until Castiel can’t see it at all, hiding, while the rest of him goes limp once more, slumping further and further down.

 

“It’s alright, Dean, I’m not going to hurt you. I’m here to help.”

 

All he gets is the back of Dean’s head.

 

This isn’t working, he thinks desperately, and the water is only getting more frigid, Dean’s soaked hoodie probably making Dean even colder, molding to his skin and weighing him down. He needs to get through to Dean in some way, and he needs to do so quickly.

 

He takes a chance, remembering how Dean had reacted to him during his appointment, seeming almost attention starved and touch deprived, and reaches his arm across the tub to the back Dean’s head. He can feel Dean tense again, but he doesn’t stop. Slowly, he begins to move his fingers, lightly massaging the top of Dean’s head, rubbing through his cold, wet hair. Dean stays tense, but doesn’t automatically move away, which is a good sign. His alpha instinct is telling him that he needs to comfort this man by any means necessary, be the one to pull him out of whatever he’s going through.

 

“Shhhhh… It’s okay Dean. You’re okay,” he whispers as he continues to run his fingers through his hair, making circles with his spread fingers and applying gentle but firm pressure.

 

He keeps up a stream of soothing words and encouragements, feeling Dean marginally relax into the touch, the muscles going slack in his neck and arms. Long minutes go by, possibly hours, and all the while Cas desperately wants to get Dean out of the freezing cold water, but he’s unwilling to rush this, or push Dean too far. He has to earn this man’s trust, and if that starts now, than so be it.

 

Brushing his fingers down to the nape of Dean’s neck, he continues his attempt to soothe Dean until finally, Dean slowly turns to face him again, trying to follow the movements of Castiel’s hand as he moves it. His eyes are shut now, but his face has lost the deadened look, in it’s place, something infinitely more exhausted and infinitely more vulnerable. He rests his face against the palm of Castiel’s hand.

 

Time to try this again, hopefully with better results.

 

“Okay beautiful, I need to get you out of the water now. I’m not going to hurt you okay?”

 

This time, he gets  movement. It’s only because he’s supporting Dean’s head that he can feel his slight nod. It’s the acknowledgement he’s been looking for, because he won’t do anything without Dean’s permission ever again. He wants to let the man know that he is safe with him.  He’s known the man barely two days in accumulation, but he wants that with all his heart. Especially now with such enormous decisions to be made.

 

Going for his back and underneath his legs this time, since he’s not so sure Dean has any intention of helping him, Cas gets absolutely soaked in the process of picking Dean up. Not that it matters when his sole purpose is to get _Dean_ dry, he thinks.

 

Goodness, Dean has gotten significantly lighter since he’d held him last. It’s not even difficult to lift the fully-grown, soaking wet man out of the water.

 

Gathering him to his chest, he looks around for a towel, feeling helpless for a second, before spotting one hanging on the hook. This is where it gets tricky. He’s going to need to remove Dean’s clothing now, if he’s to get Dean appropriately warm. But Dean is lax in his arms, head leaning against Castiel’s now soaked chest, eyes still firmly clenched shut. He could almost pass for sleeping except for the line of tension in Dean’s arms, gripped tight across his own chest.

 

Placing Dean down on the closed lid of the toilet, he makes sure Dean is fully sitting up of his one accord before making a grab for the hanging towel.

 

Dean hasn’t moved an inch when he’s back in front of him.

 

“Dean,” he says as he squats in front of him again, hands on Dean’s soaking denim clad knees, “I’m going to dry you off now, okay? I will be done soon, and then you can go to bed, alright?”

 

Again, he gets a weak nod, but when he moves to remove Dean’s hoodie first, grabbing the hem from the bottom and intending to pull it up, Castiel gets his first emotion from Dean since having walked into his apartment. But unfortunately, that emotion is _fear._

 

Dean’s eyes come alive, widening as if he’s finally just realized that Castiel is here, and pushes weakly at Castiel shoulders, but barely moving him at all.

 

“Don’t touch me.” Dean whispers, and it’s the first words out of his mouth since Castiel had told him that he was pregnant back at the hospital.

 

“I’m not going to hurt you, Dean,” he repeats, showing his hands in the universal sign that means that he isn’t dangerous. “You’re shivering. And you’re soaking wet. Please, I just want to help you, Dean.”

 

“Help me? By what? Taking off my clothes again? Yeah no thanks, I remember how that ended.” Dean scoffs, trying to stand up but swaying, coming dangerously close to losing his balance and falling.

 

“You can remove your own clothing if you wish Dean, you just need to get warm, and your clothing now is preventing you from attaining an optimal temperature.”

 

“What are you even doing here, Cas?” Dean asks as Castiel gently pushes him to sit again, “Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

 

Dean doesn’t sound angry though, if anything, he just sounds defeated. He wants, no he _needs_ to see a different expression on that beautiful face.

 

“I’m just trying to help you, Dean.” He whispers, begging Dean with his eyes to _let_ him.

 

Finally meeting and holding his eyes, Dean looks up, looking like he’s trying to assess him and his motivations. Something on Castiel’s face must have convinced him, because he nods. Wearily, eyes trying to keep Castiel in view, Dean slowly begins to unpeel the soaking wet hoodie from his skin. Pulling it over his head is a process, and it gets stuck over his chest and shoulders. This time when Castiel stands and grabs the tips of the fabric to assist him though, Dean allows it. Taking the soiled hoodie, he hangs it over the shower rod and turns his attention back to Dean.

 

And then, Dean is soaking wet and shirtless in front of him. Looking up at Castiel with lost eyes, almost child-like, looking to him for answers, maybe a solution for everything that had gone so horribly wrong between them. He is truly something to behold though, something he wouldn’t mind looking at for hours at a time, but Dean’s skin is an unhealthy shade of bluish grey, turning his pale, freckled skin sickly looking.

 

Grabbing the towel from where he dropped it, he steps up to Dean again, and wraps it around his shoulders, moving it up and down to dry him off as quickly as possible. Luckily, or not so luckily if he really thinks about it, Dean has tuned out again, and doesn’t fight. He’s pliant, eyes closed as he works the towel up into his hair and rubs it vigorously, trying to be as gentle as possible. When he’s finished with Dean’s top half, he looks to Dean’s jeans with dread. If his sweater had caused a fight, there was no doubt in his mind that Dean would have something to say about removing his wet pants and underwear.

 

Maybe if he drapes the towel over his lap, Dean won’t think he’s trying to take advantage of him? That way the towel would cover him up, and then Castiel could go and find him something else that was dry to put on.

 

Dean obviously isn’t over thinking the situation like Castiel is. Because he’s up again, still looking out of it, and moving passed Castiel, out the door and into the open bedroom.

 

Afraid that calling out to him might break the progress Dean is suddenly showing, he decides to follow him silently, making as little noise as possible when he enters the bedroom. Dean goes straight for his dresser, opening the top drawer and pulling out something and setting it down again. He has his back to Castiel but he can still see when Dean undoes his jeans and starts to shimmy out of them, fighting to get the wet fabric slowly down his legs. Not that Dean would have noticed, but Castiel immediately turns away to allow Dean some privacy. He turns around when he hears wet thwack, and Dean is standing there, staring at him again, wearing only a black pair of boxer-briefs. As much as his eyes yearn to wonder, to take in every new inch of exposed skin, it looks like Dean is waiting for something.

 

“What now, Cas?” Dean says, with that lost face and eyes again. At least he looks more alert now, after losing the soaked clothing.

 

He’s not sure if Dean is asking for an answer as to their future and the child currently growing inside Dean, or looking for an answer for what to do next after being dry. He chooses the simplest one.

 

“You need rest. You’ve suffered through enough today, Dean. Why don’t you sleep, and we’ll talk in the morning?”

 

He’s not sure how Dean will be feeling in the morning, or if he’ll even give him the time of day, but Dean is obviously not at one hundred percent, and the conversation ahead will require the utmost care and attention. He’ll have to risk it. He turns to leave.

 

“Wait Cas. I- I need to say one thing.”

 

“Yes, Dean?” he asks curiously, turning back to face Dean.

 

He seems to be struggling with something, biting his lip and looking intently at the floor. He can’t see his eyes.

 

“Cas… I’m. I’m _so_ sorry-“ he chokes out, finally looking up.

 

There are tears in his eyes, and then they’re suddenly over flowing and Castiel is moving on instinct again. Taking the few steps that were keeping them apart, Castiel’s immediate instinct is to take Dean into his arms, to comfort his _mate,_ and he doesn’t fight it. Neither does Dean.

 

What once started as hitched breathing and quiet tears has turned into something more. Something that has been building up for far too long. Dean finally feels like himself again, but just in time to completely lose it.

 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he sobs brokenly into Cas’s shoulder, effectively soaking the already wet shirt. He’s shaking and holding onto Cas’s back for dear life.

 

“It’s okay, Dean. It’s okay,” Castiel keeps saying.

 

But it’s not. Everything is the opposite of okay.

 

“No Cas,” he cries, “I’m sorry for _everything_. Everything I said before. I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean it!”

 

Castiel shushes him, and rubs his back and hair, but he can’t stop. Can’t hold back the force of his sobs. They wrack his body and make it impossible to breather. But he still has so much to _say._ So much to apologize for.

 

“I don’t know what to do, Cas,” He barely gets out between sobs.

 

“About what Dean?”

 

But he can’t answer that right now, instead he says, “I never wanted any of this.”

 

He can feel Cas clutch at him tighter as he whispers, “What, Dean?”

 

“I don’t want to be a fucking omega,” he cries, tears pouring down his face.

 

Something dislodges in his chest as he says it though. It had been weighing on him for years and years just waiting to be spoken. It’s actually a relief to have said it out loud, to have someone else know the burden that he’s been carrying around on his shoulders. To know the hate he holds for a huge piece of himself.

 

Out of all the things that could have come out of Dean’s mouth, he hadn’t expected that. God, he was barely scraping the surface of Dean’s pain. All he wanted to do was make it alright again.

 

“This thing. Inside me, the way I feel…I don’t want any of it, Cas.”

 

“I don’t have all the answers for you beautiful,” Cas says, “but I can promise you this, you will be okay, Dean. I know it.”

 

“It’s too big, Cas,” He mumbles against Cas’s shoulders, tears continuing to stream, but calmer now, sobs subsiding.

 

Castiel slowly moves his hold on Dean’s hair to shift Dean’s head from his shoulder to his neck, hopefully allowing better access for Dean to scent him. He remembers how much it had calmed Dean down, and he’s willing to try just about anything right now that to help.

 

Dean doesn’t react right away, still trying to get his breathing under control, but he unconsciously nuzzles into Castiel’s neck while he does so. Cupping his head, and stroking his hair and back, Castiel waits.

 

Struggling to get ahold of himself, Dean tries to take a deep breath, and inhales something that makes his entire body go lax. It’s Cas’s scent. His _Alpha_ scent that drives the omega in him absolutely crazy. He can accept that now. Has to really with what’s going on.

 

But this doesn’t feel like a bad thing, he thinks as he tries to inhale as much of it as he can, pressing his nose to Cas’s pulse point unashamedly. It smells like comfort. Like Cas is trying to push comfort out of himself and into Dean with scent alone, and he’ll be damned if he rejects it. It’s too good. And he kind of really likes it.

 

Castiel notices when Dean reacts to his scent, feeling him go lax in his arms, and Dean’s own scent shifting from distress into something resembling but not quite contentment. He soaks it up, trying to hold on to the little bit of peace he’d been able to afford this man. He holds Dean just a little tighter in his arms.

 

He’ll have to leave soon, he thinks with no small amount of dread, give Dean time to think and rest. But he can’t imagine letting Dean go right now.

 

“Can you stay, Cas?” Dean suddenly whispers against his neck, barely audible. “Please?”

 

God must have been listening to Castiel’s prayers.

 

“Of course, Dean.” He says, relief evident in his voice. How could he have said no anyway? He would do just about anything Dean asked him to at the moment. He had a feeling Dean didn’t do this often. Didn’t let anyone see him vulnerable.

 

And his suspicion is confirmed when they break apart wordlessly, Dean going back to the dresser to get Cas some clothes that aren’t all wet. He hands them to Cas without looking up from the floor and then turns on his heel back towards the bed, walking over, sitting down, then pulling the covers all the way up to his neck. Hiding again. But he’s not going to let him this time.

 

Quickly changing into the borrowed clothes that smell like Dean, he goes to the other side of the bed and sits down. Dean doesn’t turn to look at him or acknowledge his movement, only burrowing down further into the blankets, facing the wall.

 

“Dean?”

 

“Yeah?” comes his muffled reply.

 

“I would very much like to hold you right now. Will you let me?” For Dean’s comfort and his own. They both need this.

 

Thankfully, Dean seems to agree. Turning around and worming his way over to Cas, Castiel lays flat and pulls Dean against him. Dean’s head is pillowed on his shoulder so that he can keep scenting him, and Castiel’s hand immediately goes to pet Dean’s hair again, the other around his bare waist to keep him close.

 

"Okay, Cas."

 

A few tear continue to make their way down Dean’s face as he’s cradled to Castiel’s chest, but the fog that had settled over him from before has lifted. Leaving in it’s place a million questions that are all demanding answers. Cas’s scent is soothing him to sleep though, wrapping him up tight in a weird blanket of comfort, dimming all the noise in his head as he cuddles closer. He’s not okay. Far from it. But he they’ll sort it out in the morning.

 

Arms wrapped around him tight, keeping him warm and safe, Dean finally gives into the lullaby from the heartbeat beneath him, and greets sleep with open arms.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last update for a week or two guys, sorry!
> 
> 1.) I'll be doing GISHWHES starting this Saturday and it goes on for a week! And I'm SUPER excited for it- shout out to all my gish peeps!  
> 2.) I'm actually a college athlete, and I'll be starting up again soon, meaning double days...meaning- kill me.
> 
> But I'm super excited about this story, and all you're comments and kudos make me ridiculously happy, so who knows, you may get the next chapter sooner than you think;)
> 
> And yes, I shamelessly borrowed a few lines from a few fucking sad episodes of Supernatural. Sorry, not sorry :,(


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm baaaaaaaaack.

 

The sound of vomiting coming from the next room is what startles him out of an already light sleep. It had taken Dean a while to settle down, and he wanted to stay awake until he was completely out, but it seemed Dean had only achieved a short reprieve from the world.

 

Getting out of bed, he follows the thin slice of light coming from beneath the bathroom door and into the bedroom. It’s the only form of illumination he has, as it’s clearly still very dark outside, probably not even four yet if he had to guess.

 

The door is cracked so that it’s touching the wall, so he cautiously pushes it open, hoping his presence won’t be rebuked.

 

Dean is sitting in front of the toilet, legs crossed, and head hanging between his hands. It looks like he’s finished throwing up at least. He looks up when he hears the door creak.

 

“So this is what morning sickness is like, huh? Gotta say, I’m not impressed.”

 

Taking his comment as an invitation to come in, Castiel opens the door all the way and takes a seat on the floor behind Dean, yawning as he does so. “Unfortunately, yes. It could be made worse by the choice of food you’ve been consuming.”

 

Dean sighs and rubs at his eyes, trying to prevent the tears he can feel gathering. He’d thought he was over the crying. “Then it’s probably all the alcohol.”

 

Cas’s eyes which he had closed, opened at that, and he let his head fall back until he was leaning against the wall. “You didn’t know, Dean.”

 

He can see a single tear slide down the side of Dean’s face when he whispers, “I drank so much Cas.”

 

“Dean...” he tries to inch himself closer to Dean’s back, but Dean leans away. “Dean, please. Why didn’t you tell me before? I’m not trying to imply that this is your fault in any way, I’m just trying to understand.”

 

Dean’s shoulders shake, but he turns so his face is hidden from Castiel.

 

“I can’t Cas. I _can’t._ ”

 

“Can’t what, Dean?” he asks softly.

 

A new scent suddenly fills the air, breaking the thick aroma of sickness, and Dean groans quietly, all the skin Castiel can see turning bright red. Castiel gulps as he realizes that the scent is slick. And mother of god, is it good.

 

“This,” he chokes out, barely audible, “any of this, man. This whole situation is seriously fucked up. And I can’t do it. I’ve been trying to be something different my whole life, but now? How the fuck am I supposed do that now?”

 

He can tell that Dean is trying to hide his tears now, can hear them in the tremor of his voice, but he’s not sure what he can do besides comfort him with his scent. If only Dean would let him. He scoots closer in tiny, hopefully unnoticeable increments.

 

“You don’t have to do it alone, Dean. Whatever _it_ , is. You have options. And whichever option you chose, I will support you in any way you’ll let me.”

 

Taking a huge, shuddery breath, he blows it all out, shaking his head and looking up at the ceiling. He can still feel the tears making there way unwillingly down his face. “How do you not hate me right now, dude?”

 

He for sure does. And this guy has a lot of reasons to feel the same.

 

“I don’t exactly think this warrants hate, Dean. Confusion, yes, but not hate. But besides that, I’m not sure it’s possible for me to hate you.”

 

Finally, Dean turns around, sure he’s being lied to. But all he sees is sincerity.

 

“How is that even possible, Cas? You barely know me, but in the time that you have,  I’ve lied to you, accused you of taking advantage of me, and now… and now this,” he finishes, gesturing to the toilet, absolutely positive he wouldn’t be able to say the actual words for what he meant.

 

“While I certainly wish our night together had ended differently, I don’t regret having met you in the slightest.”

 

How could he sound so certain of himself? Dean honestly couldn’t fathom.

 

“Explain it to me then,” he demanded. There was no way this guy was for real.

 

“I’m not sure I could explain it to myself actually,” Cas laughs quietly, “but I think the best way to put it would be to say that you’re different. I’ve never met anyone who puts me so at odds. And I’ve never met anyone who has reawaken every instinct I thought I’d never had the way you do. And you’re scent, Dean…”

 

He has to keep talking or he’ll be distracted by the aphrodisiac that was the smell of Dean’s slick. If he let himself dwell, he was sure Dean would be able to scent his own interest, which was the last thing he wanted right now.

 

“It drives me absolutely insane. And it calls to me in a way I’ve never experienced before. I can’t explain that to you, only let you know what it does to me. Every time I’m in your presence, the alpha in me can only focus on one thing, and that’s you, Dean.”

 

Throughout his whole little speech, Dean was staring at him incredulously, but by the end, he was facing away from Castiel once more.

 

“So it’s not just me, huh? It’s the stupid Alpha/Omega sides of ourselves that’s making you smell like fucking Christmas on my birthday?”

 

“There aren’t two sides separate from ourselves Dean,” Cas says with a frown, “You are not one thing because of another. I was born an alpha, so that is what I am without question.”

 

Dean snorts loudly, shattering the quietness that permeated the bathroom, “Well lucky you. Not all of us won the genetic lottery, pal.”

 

“Dean… Being an Omega is nothing to be ashamed about,” he says cautiously. He starting to understand that this fact is not something Dean accepts, but he still doesn’t understand why.

 

“You just don’t get it,” Dean sighs, “you aren’t the one born at the bottom of the food chain, and you aren’t the one who’s… you know.”

 

“Pregnant?”, he finishes gently. As much as Dean is avoiding the words, he’ll have to face them eventually.

 

He can see Dean physically cringe at the word drawing his knees up to wrap his arms around them, and he doesn’t respond.

 

They sit in tired silence for a few minutes, and Castiel doesn’t take his eyes off the man for a second. Dean’s back has a constellation of freckles, and he can’t deny that he would like to memorize every single one of them.

 

“What do I do now, Cas?” Dean finally whispers.

 

He was hoping to have this conversation when they were both alert and Dean was feeling better and had time to process, but there was no time like the present. At least they finally had the chance to talk, no more running, and no more lies.

 

“I know we haven’t known each other long, and you couldn’t possibly know what kind of man I am, but I would _never_ ask you to keep a baby you do not want, Dean. If you do not want to continue with this pregnancy, then I would not try to stop you, or judge you for your decision, because it is your body. And you are in complete control.”

 

Dean’s shoulders relax a little, slumping down from where they had tensed around his ears.

 

“But… If you decide that this is something you want… If you decide that you want to keep it….I would ask to be apart it.”

 

Dean turns around, totally shocked, to stare at him as he continues.

 

“I don’t want to influence your decision in any way, but I need to make this very clear. If you go through with this, I very much want to be included in your life as well as the baby’s. In any way you’ll have me. It doesn’t  have to be a romantic relationship. I’m hoping one way or the other, that we can at least be friends. But either way, we’re in this together, Dean.”

 

He’d finally scooted close enough to where he could place his hand on Dean’s shoulder, and this time, Dean didn’t try to pull away. He was still staring at Cas in shock, but his eyes were scrunched in a way that he could tell that Dean was thinking. It was then though, that he noticed how cold Dean felt. God, he’d been sitting on the cold tile in nothing but his boxer briefs, no wonder he was freezing!

 

“Dean, let’s get you back in bed, we can finish this conversation at a more decent hour.” He says, trying not to worry too much. He sounds like a mother hen. But Dean’s immune system is not at it’s finest at the moment, and it can’t hurt to be too careful.

 

Shaking his head, and coming to the realization that he’s sitting on the floor in front of his toilet practically naked, he is all too down for getting back into bed. Hopefully this time, he can stay in a little bit longer.

 

Cas moves to help him up, but he doesn’t need him. As abruptly as the nausea had come, it seemed to be subdued with Cas’s scent in his immediate proximity. But at least now he knew he wasn’t the only affected by the other’s scent. It was weirdly comforting not to be so alone, even if was prevented by Cas.

 

They walk back into Dean’s bedroom, with Cas following him, but Cas stops in the doorway when Dean continues on until he gets to the bed. Turning around when he realizes he isn’t being followed anymore, he sees Cas looking down at the floor, not meeting his eyes.

 

“Cas?”

 

“I don’t want to make you even more uncomfortable than I already have, and I don’t want to intrude. You need to rest, so would it be alright if I slept on your couch?”

 

It was almost completely dark, so Dean was glad Cas couldn’t see his small smile. They were way past uncomfortable. They were way past a lot of things actually, so what was one more night? It’s not like this was sexual in any way. It was the complete opposite. But the idea of Castiel sleeping on the couch while he slept in his bed all by himself did not sound all that appealing at the moment. And with Cas near, he was almost positive his scent would lessen whatever was up with his body.

 

“It’s fine Cas. You don’t have to sleep on the couch.”

 

“But-“

 

“But nothing. I’m tired, you’re tired, let’s just go to sleep yeah? We can talk boundaries and feelings and shit tomorrow, I swear.”

 

“Are you sure, Dean?” Cas asks uncertainly.

 

“Yes, I’m sure. As long as you keep your hands to yourself, that is.”

 

He honestly doesn’t think Cas would try anything though. Not after everything that had been said in the bathroom. Hopefully, Castiel was being honest with him, because he was deciding to trust him, if only with this.

 

“Of course, Dean.”

 

Listening as Cas makes his way blindly to the other side of the bed, Dean pulls the comforter up and slips underneath. The bed dips as Castiel does the same. On opposite sides of the bed, both of them lie on their backs to look up at the ceiling. They’re close enough to smell each other’s scent, but far enough away that Dean can’t feel Cas’s heat. He secretly wishes he could, because even with the blankets, he’s still cold. But this will have to do for now.  And it’s enough, because he can still absorb the comfort of the Alpha’s scent without seeming too needy. He’ll take whatever he can get right now.

 

It’s silent except for their breathing, and neither of them try to move into a different position. Dean wonders if Cas is thinking about everything  as hard as he was. If he was worrying silently at the same time as him. God, there was so much at stake right now, and he had no clue what was going to happen, or even what he wanted. Now wasn’t the time to be overwhelmed though, that was tomorrow. For now, there was nothing else to do for it besides sleep. He was going to be needing it if he and Cas were going to talk again tomorrow/later today. But already he felt a little, tiny bit, lighter from their conversation tonight, so hopefully it wouldn’t be too horrible. Closing his eyes, he listens to the man breathing besides him, and tries to match it with his own.

 

 

 

 

This time when he wakes up nice and warm with arms wrapped around him, he doesn’t freak out. Only the position those arms have taken cause him alarm this time. Cas’s arms, which had been at his own sides when they’d fallen asleep, were now firmly tugging him closer from behind.

 

Only his hands were now cradling Dean’s stomach.

 

And that right there, along with the funny warm feeling that automatically rushed to the surface, was way too much to process after everything that had happened yesterday and last night. And this felt waaaaaay too much like deja vu.

 

Except this time, he could feel how wet he was, could feel how soaked the back of his underwear were. Add that with the implications that came with Castiel unconsciously placing his hands over what he now knew was something _he_ had put there…Fuck.

 

It was the accumulation of these things that had Dean unwrapping himself from Cas’s arms and scooting himself over on the bed. He didn’t leave it though. He hadn’t needed to throw up this morning, and he was afraid that leaving Cas’s scent would cause it to come again. Not that he _really_ wanted to leave the bed. He was fine as long as Cas wasn’t touching him. Dean was done fighting with Castiel. It wasn’t his fault they were in this mess, and it was Dean who needed to make this right.

 

Dean’s shifting must have woken Cas up though, because Castiel is now squinting at him in irritation.

 

“What time is it?” he mumbles, his already gravelly voice even more deep with sleep.

 

Turning around to check, “It’s almost eight.”

 

Cas is suddenly the one up and leaving the bed, going from grumpy and tired to alert all at once. He stops suddenly, mid motion, when he catches a whiff of Dean’s scent again. And this time, there is no mistaking or hiding Castiel’s answering lust. He’s honestly surprised he’d managed to keep it under control for this long.

 

He knows the second it registers with Dean, because his eyes go wide, and his cheeks darken as new slick leaks outs without his permission in response. Holy shit, that was weird. Since he hadn’t produced slick since he was fifteen, he was totally unprepared for the way his body reacted to an Alpha’s arousal. Fear shot through him at the thought of someone else smelling him like this, of knowing what he was. Holy _shit_ , he had to go to work today.

 

Cas’s scent dimmed somewhat when he scented Dean’s fear, hoping desperately that he wasn’t afraid of _him._ He couldn’t imagine ever hurting Dean. Slowly, very aware of his tented pajama pants, Cas lowered himself back on the bed, placing his hands on his knees where Dean could see them.

 

“I apologize if I scared you, Dean. That wasn’t my intention. And I apologize if my scent upset you as well.”

 

Dean still looked at him with wide eyes, looking like a deer in the headlights, before looking down at the comforter and pulling it up until his lower half was covered.

 

“While that was fucking weird, that’s not what I was thinking about. You can’t control it, I get that. Obviously neither can I,” he says with a look of disgust as he looks down again, “I was thinking about work, though. I can’t go out like this, man.”

 

Oh yes, the blockers Dean has been using. They had obviously served him well up until this point. Now that Dean was pregnant, and his body was preparing for the pregnancy, it will become next to impossible to hide the scent of pregnant Omega. They gave off a particular scent that was distinguishable to all, smelling so incredibly sweet it was impossible to ignore. Right now, he guessed Dean was about two months in, and had only about a month to attempt to hide the scent he was already starting to smell before it would it would be in full bloom.

 

“Dean. Have…have you thought about our course of action at all?” He made sure to stress the _our_ , in the sentence, reiterating his support in any decision made.

 

Dean turns away to face the other wall so he doesn’t have to see Cas’s eyes.

 

“Cas. I-I think I need some time,” he says hesitatingly, “To think. Either way though, I gotta do this alone, man. I’ve already burdened you enough.”

 

“Asking for time is perfectly acceptable, Dean. But your second request is not. I told you last night that you are not alone in this, and I meant it whole heartedly. _No_ one should have to do anything as immense as this by themselves,” He says heatedly, trying and failing to catch Dean’s eyes.

 

“I will respect your wish for time to think, but I beg you to reconsider my involvement. You haven’t burdened me in the slightest, Dean, and all I want now is to help you. No matter what you chose.”

 

Dean bites his lip and closes his eyes, but at least there isn’t an immediate rebuttal. That means Dean is thinking it over which is a good sign.

 

“I’ll even give you time to give you time. You don’t have to make a single decision at the present time,” Hopefully this doesn’t sound as desperate as it does in his head, “Just think about what I said. Friends, remember? No pressure, and no expectations. I want to be there for you, Dean.”

 

At his words, Dean opens his eyes to consider Castiel again. No one has ever said that to him before. No one has willingly reached out to him to let him know that they supported him or wanted to be there for him as a source of comfort or companionship. But could he even allow that now, after everything? At least he agreed that he needed time even for this.

 

“Yeah Cas. I guess I’ll think about it.”

 

Castiel sighs in relief, and it makes Dean wish for something better to say. But he can’t do that. One mistake right now, and he’s sure he’ll be finished. He couldn’t take anything else being thrown at him.

 

“Thank you, Dean.”

 

“Mmhmm.” He says awkwardly, not knowing what to do with Cas’s genuine gratitude, “So what time do you have to go in?”

 

Castiel hadn’t gone from zero to sixty for no reason. Eyes widening, Cas is off the bed again and looking for clothes, causing another almost déjà vu moment.

 

“I have work at nine. It’s a half hour drive, and I can’t show up to the office wearing pajamas.”

 

Smiling at how flustered Cas is, he watches silently as he Castiel continues to look for his shirt which is actually right behind him. It’s kind of entertaining to see the dude with ruffled feathers for once.

 

His smile drops though when he’s reminded of his own job, and why he’d freaked a few minutes ago. _Shit._ Hopefully if he doubled his blockers again and used the soaps he usually did, he could slide by his coworkers again with the same bullshit cover. It was fucking risky, but he didn’t see any other options.

 

“I don’t understand why you smell afraid again, but I’m guessing it’s still from work?” comes Castiel muffled question as he finally finds his still damp shoes and pants. He looks over at Dean for confirmation, and Dean nods.

 

“Dean. I can suggest a particular blocker that will be more effective in disguising your scent, but it’s not permanent. And if you do chose to go through with this pregnancy, I only recommend using it for one month. At three months, it will only do more damage rather than help, and you already need to be very careful after consuming so much alcohol this early on, as it is.”

 

“Oh thank fuck,” Dean sighs in relief, “Yeah, let’s do it. Can you write it down for me?”

 

“Of course. Hold on a second.”

 

He rustles through the coat slung over his arm for a second before pulling a small notepad out of one of the pockets along with a pen. God, he looked like a doctor right now, even when wearing Dean’s pajamas. Cas scribbles something down before handing it to Dean, and looks reluctantly at the door.

 

“It’s fine, Cas. Just go. I’ll think about everything, I promise. Got your number, remember?” he says with a wink.

 

While Dean says that now, he’s not confident that if Dean made a decision or needed help, that he would ever call him. He was determined to help, whether Dean understood that or not. He would just have to show him.

 

Just because Dean needed time to think, didn’t mean he needed to think whilst alone. Smiling one more time after a rushed good-bye, Cas is exiting Dean’s apartment once more. But this time, he knows he’ll be back. Sooner rather than later.

It was time to gain a new friend in Dean Winchester.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For any of you people who have never done GISHWHES, please think about doing it next year! You will never have as much fun or experience so much weird in your entire life! Hope you enjoyed this chapter! And as always, mistakes are my own! My bad xD


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has left kudos, and THANK YOU SO MUCH to everyone who leaves me comments. I get excited every time I hear my phone buzz with an email, and it seriously makes my day to know that other people are enjoying my work! Love y'all

 

 

 

As soon as Cas leaves, Dean forces himself to get out of bed and get his ass moving. There’s no time to stop and think, because now he has shit to do. He’s gotta get the blockers and then go to work. As long as he has a goal, something to accomplish, he thinks he can avoid another breakdown.

 

But he won’t be able to think one sane thought until he showers off the slickness still soaking his underwear. While he may have found a temporary solution for the scent blocker problem, they wouldn’t effect the problem he was having _back there._

 

He was already taking frequent bathroom breaks, his bladder having shrunk in the last few weeks, so maybe after he cleaned himself off in the shower and then fixed the toilet paper he shoved up there during the break, no one would be able to smell it? God he wished he could take his suppressants right now. It made everything so much simpler. But nothing was ever simple anymore, and he knew taking them wasn’t really an option right now. Not when he promised Cas that he would take some time to think things over. He owed the man that much.

 

After a quick and disgusting shower, he chooses another hoodie and black jeans this time, just in case anything were to leak through. Even just the thought of that happening has a thrill of fear shooting up his spine.

 

He’s got two hours till work and he still needs to eat and hit up a drugstore.

 

 Yesterday after leaving the doctor’s office, all he could think was, _this is a mistake._ Over and over again, through the numbness that had settled after Cas had delivered the news. They had mixed up his sample with the woman sitting in the lobby with her mate, or Cas had read the test wrong. They had to have made a huge mistake, and the powers that be just wanted to fuck with him again. When he got to the nearest store, he didn’t even care if anyone saw him or fucking scented him, he walked all the way to the fucking _feminine_ hygiene aisle and grabbed as many pregnancy tests as he could, regardless of price. He’d even grabbed two of the male pregnancy tests that were at the very bottom of the shelf, untouched.

 

But it had all been in vain. Every single one of the tests read positive.

 

 Still, he hadn’t been able to react. No anger, no fear, no tears, and no anything. He was nothing. With the same thought of _this is a mistake_ running through his head, he’d filled the tub with hot water, and sat down, clothes and all. He was dirty. Maybe if he was clean this wouldn’t have happened to him.

 

And then Cas had come.

 

And he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. As soon as he realized what was going on, and who exactly was trying to comfort him and why, the tears had finally came. It was like a freaking dam had burst. All the stress and bottled up emotions from the past two months had come rushing to the surface, and he was helpless to stop it. He hadn’t cried like that in years, probably his entire life actually. And Cas had held him. Just yesterday when he even thought his name he would have cringed, but now there was so much fucking confusion.

 

Even now, after he scrambled some eggs and sat down to eat, he could feel the nausea coming on. When Cas was near, or more specifically his scent, his body stopped fighting him so much. That had to mean something right?

 

He just didn’t know what. For now though, it was better for Castiel to keep his distance. For his own good. He was a fucking mess right now, and nobody should have to witness this, he thinks as he forces himself to eat a second piece of buttered toast. He needed to get his shit together. Starting with eating better and more regularly.

 

He’s about to leave when he remembers to brush his teeth. Going back to the bathroom, he quickly grabs his toothbrush and squirts tooth paste on. As soon as it touches his tongue he gags and throws up all over the sink. It came on so fast he couldn’t even react, couldn’t even think to take a step towards the toilet. He leans over the sink, trying to not get anything on the floor, but it’s dripping out his nose and dry heaves have him hunched over and looking for any barf free available space to brace himself. He closes his eyes for a second when it’s done, but the revolting smell has them opening again to focus on something else.

 

 _Fuck_ , he’d made a mess.

 

And now he had to clean it up again. While the throwing up stopped, he still fealt like shit. His stomach just wouldn’t settle. Waking up this morning, he’d thought he had avoided it, but he was fucking wrong.

 

There was no way he could work like this. All he wanted at this second was to curl up and go back to sleep, because not only did he feel the nausea increasing, but his exhaustion level as well.

 

Sighing he went to the kitchen to grab a shit ton of paper towels and cleaning shit. If his bathroom smelled bad before, it was nothing compared to what it was now. But before he got to it, he’d have to call Bobby. Honestly at this point, he knew he was probably being a pretty unreliable employee, but what the fuck ever. At least now he could put off going out in public like this.

 

Grabbing his phone, he dialed Bobby’s number and waited.

 

“Hello?” came a surly voice.

 

“It’s Dean,” he says as he massages the bridge of his nose to relieve some tension.

 

“Well hello to you too, boy,” Bobby snarks.

 

“Hey I’m real sorry, but I can’t come in today.”

 

There’s silence of the other line for a few seconds.

 

“Is this about that girl Benny was gabbing on about yesterday? Cuz’ if it, you are sure dumber than you look.”

 

“No Bobby,” he can’t help but chuckle lightly, the old man was a notorious gossip right along with Benny. “I’m sick. Got the puke all over the bathroom to prove it. Want me to send you a picture? Or should I wait for you to come help me clean?”

 

“You better not be lying to me kid, from what I hear, you’re prone to over exaggeration… But I’ll let it slide today, cuz’ you actually sound like crap. Guess I’ll seeya tomorrow.”

 

And then the connection cuts out and he’s left staring at his phone.

 

Over exaggeration? What the fuck? The only person who would say that shit was his father, and course that’s who it would be. Because while he wouldn’t talk to Dean directly, he was happy to hear all about him second handed through his boss. Fan-fucking-tastic. That is all he needed right now. Good thing he had a distraction, because he didn’t want anything else to stew about. His dad could go to hell.

 

His anger actually helped him clean up faster. He spent about ten to fifteen minutes scrubbing and washing before the smell went away, but it did help to release some of his frustration. Now he could go back to sleep.

 

Stripping out of his jeans that he’d just freakin put on, he pulled on sweat pants and left the hoodie on. It was pretty chilly in his apartment. He grabbed an extra blanket from the closet and was about to lay down when he noticed the wet spot in his bed.

 

Oh hell no. Seriously, what else could go wrong?!

 

Spitting curses under his breath he took the blanket and a pillow and dragged them over to the couch, and flopped unceremoniously in a heap.

 

Fuck. This.

 

Switching on the tv, and not giving two fucks about what on, he tucked in the blanket on all sides and went right to sleep within a few minutes or so.

 

When he opens his eyes again, it looks much later than when he fell asleep, and someone is knocking on the fucking door. Obviously his bad mood has carried over since before his nap, and he’s not happy about being woken up. No one ever knocks on his door. People left him alone here, and that was the way it should always be.

 

Groaning, he tries to untangle himself from his blanket, and of course, almost trips. He keeps going though, taking the blanket with him around his shoulders, ready to tear whoever woke him up a new one, and rips open the door without bothering to check the peep hole.

 

It’s Castiel standing outside his door.

 

“We just talked, like this morning. What the hell else do you want from me man?!” he snaps.

 

He looks taken aback by his harshness, eyes scrunching the way they do when he’s confused, and tries to take a step forward, but Dean takes a step back. He’s not getting anywhere _near_ Cas’s scent. Not when it stirs the weirdest reactions in him.

 

“Nothing,” he says as he also takes a step back now, “I just got off work and wanted to check on you. Is there something wrong, Dean?”

 

“Don’t even get me fucking started on what’s wrong,” Dean says irritably, “the list is way too damn long. But let’s start with the whole vomiting my guts out thing shall we? It fucking sucks, and I had to call in sick today, and haven’t been able to leave this goddamn apartment. So if it’s all the same to you,  I’d like to be left alone. Before anything else comes along to fuck up an already shitty day.”

 

“De-”

 

He doesn’t hear what Cas was about to say through the sound of the door slamming in his face.

 

Stomping to the kitchen he pours himself a bowl of lucky charms, he plops down on the couch again. The oven clock says it 6:45pm. The day has come and gone with him spending most of it sleeping or feeling sick. Awesome. God, he wants to punch something.

 

Instead, he loses himself for the next hour or so watching something on the Syfy channel. The weird shit making him forget the look on Cas’s face right before he’d slammed the door on his face. He specifically remembered asking for time to think. So he was completely justified in his actions, as Cas hadn’t even given him 24 hours. Did he really expect Dean to figure everything out in that short time span? As if. His stomach churns again uneasily at the thought. Shit, hopefully he wouldn’t get sick again. This was supposedly morning sickness, but he was finding it to be more aptly named all day every day sickness. It was getting increasingly difficult to keep anything down, which was why he was losing weight so fucking fast. It was a vicious cycle. Maybe if he…

 

He’s startled out of his pondering by someone knocking on his door. Again.

 

Sighing, because this day can not end soon enough, he gets up to get the door again. And of course it’s too much of a coincidence for someone _else_ to be knocking on his door on the same day.

 

Cas is outside again, but this time, he did not come empty handed.

 

“What the hell, Cas?”

 

“Wait Dean, please don’t shut the door,” he begs, “I can help.”

 

Narrowing his eyes and feeling his irritation level going up with the word “help,” he crosses his arms and waits, giving him an expectant look, and maintains the safe distance between them.

 

“I purchased the scent blockers we discussed earlier, since you had said you hadn’t been able to leave today,” he says, speaking fast as he raises the bag in one arm and then the other, “And I also brought dinner. Vital proteins and nutrients your body will need, especially after it has rejected the food you consumed previously.”

 

Cas’s eyes are huge and imploring the entire time he says this, and Dean can feel all of his aggression and irritability slowly melt away. The guy _was_ just trying to help. And he hadn’t said one thing about demanding answers. Now he felt like a douche bag after earlier.

 

“Can I please come in, Dean?”

 

Well how can he say no after all he’d just done for him?

 

Finally, he steps back against the door to give Cas room to enter, still a tiny bit reluctant. Because, what now? Things were awkward enough as they were.

 

When Cas moves past him in the direction of the couch, the air around them shifts, and Dean gets hit with that dangerous scent he’d been avoiding before. Immediately he can feel slick start to leak again, and his body tenses to follow Cas to get as close as possible.

 

 _Down Dean_ , he thinks to himself.

 

If he’s even gonna contemplate being friends with this dude, or even acquaintances, he’s gonna either have to learn to control that shit, or get used to it. On the bright side though, at least he doesn’t feel nauseous at the smell of food. It actually smells good for once, and he does follow Cas to sit on the opposite end of the couch.

 

Neither of them say another word as Cas pulls out a white plastic food carton from one of the bags and hands it to Dean. Cas looks like he’s being careful not to upset him, staying quiet and not making any sudden movements, but continues to watch him while he opens the food. 

 

It was actually a thoughtful gesture, and Dean would be an asshole if he refused to eat it out of pride. It’s not like lucky charms was that great a dinner anyway. Besides, it was salmon and sweet potatoes, and it looked and tasted super fresh when he took a bite. Cas must have come directly from a restaurant or something.

 

 _And_ he had taken the stress out of going to the store smelling like he did to get the freak’in blockers. And all he had done was yell at him and slam the door in his face.

 

He looks over at Cas who had not so subtly been watching him eat, and Cas doesn’t even pretend to look away.

 

“Thanks, Cas,” he finally breaks the silence. And he means it. It’s kind of funny how he was so afraid of the Alpha before, but now that they’ve talked more and they’re both completely sober and not suffering from a panic attack, he can tell that Cas is a decent guy.

 

Cas smiles and looks down, looking shy for once, but then looks at the tv. Still smiling that little smile.

 

Dean turns the volume up, and after he finishes the food, even the frilly looking side salad, they continue to watch cheesy SyFy shows until it’s nine o’clock, and Cas says it’s time for him to go. The entire time that he was here, Dean hadn’t felt nauseous at all, the food actually making his stomach feel better than it has all day. And conversation flowed sparsely, but easily between them. Their scents had been reacting to each other’s the whole time, but it hadn’t become an issue. If anything, it probably helped to settle his stomach more, the comfort it instilled was undeniable.

 

If this is what being friends with Cas was like, he thought as he watched out his door as Cas turns to go down the stairs, then maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing?

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh, pregnancy hormones. Gotta love em.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi friends. I just wanted to let you guys know why I've slowed down a bit with updating this story. Let me tell you, concussions are no joke. I got a severe concussion a little while ago, and I'm unfortunately still suffering through the consequences. Consequences being horrible head aches and sensitivity to all kinds of light- the computer screen among them. My life has kind of been put on hold right now, the doctors saying I'm not supposed to play(soccer), read, write, or watch tv, so that's why this story is going much slower than I wanted. But I just wanted to tell you guys not to give up on me, because I would never give up on this!
> 
> Thank you again for all your comments and kudos! Here's a long ass chapter to show my love!

 

 

 

The next couples of days go by with some resemblance to the normal he was living before the incident. After Cas leaves that night, he talks with Sam like he does every Wednesday, and he goes to work the next day as if nothing life changing had happened at all.

 

The blockers work to mask the majority of his scent, only a tiny hint still leaking through, but with Benny’s mind made up thinking he was _with_ an omega, all he got were questions about missing work instead of about the way he smelled. Which he would gladly take over the truth. Especially because he found a special kind of pleasure watching his co-worker’s face as he regaled them all with vivid tales of puke and consequential cleaning.

 

It was almost like things were getting back to normal.

 

Except for one thing.

 

 That thing being Castiel’s continued presence.

 

After that first day when shit hit the fan epically, Cas comes over almost every day. He doesn’t usually stay long, just long enough to very obviously check up on him, and deliver food. Always with the food. It’s something different  almost every day, and Dean has never eaten so well his entire life. And that’s just one meal out of the day. He’ll stop by after he gets off work, and no matter what time it is, come over to Dean’s apartment to make sure he eats. Because apparently, Cas is a nice guy.

 

Fuck him for being nice. It would make this situation a hell of a lot easier if Cas was generally an asshole. Truth be told, after they had talked the morning after his freak out, he thought that was possibly going to be the last time he’d see the man. Yeah, he’d spouted a lot of pretty words to convince Dean that he wanted to help, but those were just words. Now, with Cas actually here, making an effort to do the things he said he would, Dean didn’t know how to let him. It kind of makes it easier when he drops off food and leaves, so he doesn’t feel as pressured to interact. The comfort zone he had so desperately clung to before he met Cas at that fucking bar was out the window. Every time Cas was there, they were breaching uncharted territory.

 

The one time he does stay longer that week is Friday. On Friday, he brings enough food for himself this time, and they eat together while they watch star wars. It’s not actually as awkward as it sounds, except for when he has to leave towards the end of the movie to puke real quick. But he recovers like a champ, and even finishes off another breadstick. Besides Cas’s hovering as he did his business, and Cas’s passive annoyance from Dean’s refusal to let Cas into the bathroom, the night was a success.

 

The next morning Cas goes in late to work, so he drops off a fucking huge breakfast; with pancakes, eggs, sausage, bacon, hash browns, and a shit load of fruit(Yes, Cas always slips something healthy into every meal). The fucking works, and then he leaves with that little smile and a _have a nice day, Dean._

 

But that’s not it. When he pulls the food out of the bag, there’s a little pill bottle underneath. With a sticky note on top that reads; _Sorry-C._

 

_Anti-Nausea vitamins- specifically designed for expecting Omega mothers._

Ain’t that a bitch. Of course the label has a picture of a tiny omega woman with a huge distended belly, with a big heart wrapped around her. Because that’s _totally_ him.

 

So yeah, everything is starting to become normal… Except for Cas. Except for the fact that he still leaks like a fucking girl. And except for the fact that he fucking _knows._

 

He can pretend all he wants, but nothing is actually normal at all. Dean knows Cas wants to talk about _it,_ the big elephant in the room, but he can’t bring himself to even think about thinking about it. Yes, intuitively he understands that denial is not the way to solve problems, but he’d rather put it off for the next day….or the next. Because when has he ever made the healthiest choice over the easiest? He’s a fucking Winchester. And nothing screamed healthy like not talking to their father for almost three months because of the way he was born.

 

For now, he and Cas can sit on opposite ends of the couch from each other and subtly take comfort in each other’s scents while pretending they’re two normal dudes just hanging out.

 

Dean really hasn’t had too many people to spend time with except for the girl he was dating at the time. Yes he and Lisa had lived together for a year, but before that, it was all just casual flings, nothing too serious.  Even with Lisa, they had more of a friends with benefits thing going on anyway. He got along with other guys fine, but they  unnerved him in a way women didn’t. Because god forbid one of the women he was with found out about him, what would they really do? Leave, probably. If a guy found out about him? Completely different story.

 

But the Alpha sitting across from him was different from anything he’d imagined an Alpha would be like. Completely different from the man he vaguely recalled when he remembered that night all those months ago. He was still wary of him, and he definitely didn’t want to see the flip side of his docility that had to be a front, but Cas almost didn’t seem like an Alpha at all. If he couldn’t smell the Alpha pheromones pumping profusely out of him and making him crazy, he would almost pass for a Beta. Cas never tried to move closer to Dean or tried to push Dean to talk, even though he was sure Cas wanted both. If Dean remained silent, then so did Cas. Quietly watching the tv screen or making sure Dean ate and enjoyed everything on his plate. Although it seemed like maybe Cas was was walking on egg shells around him, quiet and unassuming like most men were not, when Dean tried to tell him that he shouldn’t be spending money on him, Cas immediately resurfaced with his Alpha like stubbornness (pigheadedness).

 

“Don’t fight me on this, Dean,” Cas said, his face completely serious, voice sharp. “It’s honestly the least I can do.”

 

“But you don’t owe me _anything_ , Cas. You don’t even know me,” he argued, because if anyone owed somebody anything, it was definitely him.

 

“That is actually the point, Dean,” he said earnestly, “I don’t know you. But I would very much like to change that, so could you let this go? You still have yet to eat…”

 

And every time after that when Dean tried to protest, all he got was a brick wall in response; Cas either trying to ignore his arguments, or Cas going into Doctor mode and boring him to death with a lecture on the reasons each individual food item was completely necessary for his health. Dean hadn’t decided which was worse yet., but Cas in Doctor mode was something to behold.

 

As the second week comes and goes, Dean actually uses the number Cas had left all those weeks ago. He has no idea why he hadn’t immediately thrown it away, but he’s kind of glad he didn’t. Because this was important shit.

 

After Cas leaves on Tuesday night, and he’s eaten everything except for what’s in the triangle box, he stares at it with disgust. He knows what’s in it. Cas doesn’t always bring him dessert, but when he does, it’s always the same fucking thing. So instead of pulling it out, he grabs his phone out of his pocket and hunts down the note he stashed in his mail pile next to his fridge. All he texts is;

 

**:Dude. No more cake.**

 

Without leaving his name. But Cas obviously understands as he can see the three little dots meaning Cas is writing something back.

 

**:Of course, Dean.**

 

He thinks that’ll be the end of it, but he can immediately see those dots again.

 

**:Is there something you’d prefer in its stead?**

 

_Fuck_ , he thinks, biting his lip, now what? Cas was already pretty much spoiling him. He did not need for Cas to go out of his way more so than he already was. Especially because shit was expensive these days.

 

**:Nope.**

 

**:Dean…**

**:Hey! Not a dessert guy, what can I say?**

**:Everyone has something…Come on, Dean.**

**: …..**

**:You know you want to tell me.**

**:…I like pie.**

**:Pie it is then.**

And that was that. The next day, along with the four cheese raviolis, was a slice of apple pie. Of course it was apple, his favorite fucking kind, and it was fucking delicious too. He may or may not have moaned when he took the first bite, but going off Cas’s wide eyes and increased scent, he definitely did.

 

And that was another thing all together. Because they’d _slept_ together. There was fucking _proof_ that they’d slept together. Undeniable proof, but that didn’t stop Dean from trying. Again, pretending they were just two dudes hanging out was _so_ much fucking easier than facing reality.

 

Because the reality was something he just could not face. As much time as he had to think over that first night, he still can’t believe he’d crossed that boundary. The only real boundary he’d set in place for himself. And now look where they are.

 

He had never had this kind of connection with someone who wasn’t a woman. Did that make him gay? The question kept popping up in his head over and over. Again it was kind of hard to deny with the other _thing_ as well. That was all the proof anyone would ever need. By now, he could admit that Cas was a fairly attractive guy, but that didn’t mean he wanted to be with him like _that._ He had been wasted that first time, and confused and hung over the second, he reasons. Besides, who could control another person’s scent from setting off their own? That was just an unfortunate accident.

 

But that wasn’t all of it. By the time the third week comes around, he wakes up one morning soaking wet, and with a certain gruff voice cutting off mid-word in his dream. And it’s not sweat.

 

Groaning in equal parts disgust and embarrassment, he gets up to clean himself off before he really needs to wake up for the day. He cannot _believe_ he had a fucking wet dream about _Cas._ Is this really what his life had come to? Why couldn’t it at least be his dick that liked Cas? It fucking had to be his ass, didn’t it?

 

He was sick and tired of the slick mess that he always was now. It was fucking gross, and he didn’t need yet another reminder of his current condition. It was like no matter what symptoms he successfully masked or took care of, another one was ready to rear its ugly head in order to always be front in center in Dean’s mind. His scent was concealed, he had to vomit. His nausea was assuaged, he was leaking like a faucet. If he wasn’t leaking, that would be the day the vitamins didn’t help and he still ended up vomiting. Every day he was getting more and more fatigued. So exhausted, that by the time that Cas left most nights, he’d immediately face plant in his bed, the rest of his nightly routine be damned. And don’t even get him started on the state of his hormones right now, because that shit was all over the place. It was like his body was screaming at him, trying to force him into thinking things through, on doing _something,_ but when he did… he really didn’t like the thoughts that inevitably came with making such a huge decision.

 

He was not mentally prepared for something like this. It was beyond him. He wasn’t smart enough, he wasn’t strong enough, and he definitely wasn’t responsible enough to be left with the ball in his court. And as much as Cas was starting to grow on him, he wasn’t so sure he trusted him enough to follow through with supporting him with whatever choice he chose to lead. Sure he was a nice guy, Cas had proved that much, but the dude was no _parent._ He couldn’t see Castiel holding a kid anymore than he could see himself holding one. The more he thought about it, the more ridiculous it seemed.

 

After three weeks, he barely knows the guy.

 

 All he knows is Castiel is an Alpha, he is a doctor, he’s thirty years old. He talks kinda funny most of the time, his favorite color is green, his favorite food is peanut butter and jelly, he has the bluest eyes he’d ever seen, he could stare intensely at Dean for an indefinite amount of time without feeling uncomfortable, he’s never seen Lord of the Rings(bless his soul), he smells like Christmas everyday without fail, he has three brothers, or had since his brother Luke died from an overdose(that Cas doesn’t like to talk about). He preferred cake to pie(again, bless his soul), he always tilted his head and scrunched his eyes when he was confused, not a lot of people shortened his name to “Cas,” he drove an ugly ass Prius, and was probably the nicest person he’d ever met.

 

Okay… so he knew a lot more than he thought he did, but the facts remained the same. They were not ideal parents. Not even fucking close. And it wouldn’t be fair to go into this half assed, especially when he was almost sure he didn’t want to in the first place. It was fucking scary. How was he supposed to be responsible for another human being when he could barely get himself out of bed everyday? It just didn’t make sense.

 

When the fourth week finally came around, things started to change rapidly.

 

For one, his body was changing. With all the good food he’d been eating, and the exclusion of booze, he actually looked healthy for once.

 

A little rounder in the gut for sure, unfortunately, but he wasn’t exactly _showing_ either. Just looked a bit bloated was all. No one could tell him otherwise as he still hid behind his hoodies and garage jump suit. Benny had actually poked fun of him for, “Lookin good for his gal.”

 

If only that were the case.

 

 Everyday, his scent got stronger and stronger, the blockers doing less and less to mask the smell of sweetness and unicorns. Because yes, Cas had informed him that if unicorns were real, that is what they’d smell like(their conversations got weird sometimes, which was weird cuz’ Cas was so serious all the time).

 

And the more time he spent with Cas, the more Cas accidently rubbed off on him. Literally. Just being in the same room, both scents going haywire in the other’s presence, adding in the casual shoulder touches and manly pats on the back Cas subtly incorporates more and more, Cas’s scent was all over him. If he inhaled the sleeve of the shirt he’d worn to bed last night, he would most likely catch a hint of _Alpha_ , which means other people could as well if they knew what to look for.

 

While this might have upset him a few days ago, today he was finding himself fucking grateful.

 

It was just one of those days where nothing helped the nausea. The pills, while pretty good with settling his stomach, were never one hundred percent. So after he cleaned himself up and got off the phone with Bobby, he grabbed the blanket off the couch that had been there last night, and wrapped himself in it before trudging back to bed. Inhaling, he melted back into the pillows. He could still smell him. He pulled the neck of his shirt over his nose to get the full effect, and he could feel the spinning of the room slowly come to a stop.

 

Well… that wasn’t embarrassing at all.

 

It was all instinct, and he was too tired to fight it right now. He’d thrown up last night and this morning, it was safe to say that he was a hot mess. And no one should have to witness it. Especially not Cas. He probably saw crazy shit where he worked, he didn’t need to see it during his down time too.

 

Groaning out loud to himself, he blindly reached over to the bed side table to feel around for his phone. After knocking off god knows what, he finally feels it’s familiar shape. Cringing away from the brightness of the screen he pulls up his most recent conversation with Cas. Pretty much his only conversation, sadly enough.

 

**:Save yrself- don’t come over tonite**

He doesn’t expect a reply since he knows Cas is at work, but Cas’s response comes not a minute later.

 

**:Is everything alright?**

**:Are you okay?**

**:Dean?**

 

He can’t help but smile a little at Cas’s panicked texts. He can clearly imagine Cas staring down at his phone with that concerned confusion that only Cas can pull off. Maybe with that little held tilt as well. Cas is a worrier, going all protective Alpha with a drop of a dime. It’s endearing as well as annoying as hell.

 

**:M’fine. Feelin sick is all. Thought I would spare yr delicate eyes from seein the special relationship I have w/ my toilet**

**:It doesn’t bother me in the slightest.**

**:No Cas! That is some kinky shit, and I am NOT down.**

**:I want you to know that I’m rolling my eyes.**

**:Whatever, I’m hilarious.**

**:I’m glad you make _someone_ laugh. Are sure you’re okay though?**

**:Yep. Fan-freakin-tastic. G2G do nothing, seeya when I seeya.**

**:Feel better Dean. Let me know if you need anything.**

 

Chuckling to himself, he puts his phone back before resuming his previous task of trying to inhale as much of that scent as possible before he falls asleep again. Soon, he won’t have it at all, as he’ll probably never see Cas again after this week, is his last thought before succumbing.

 

The only time he vacates his bed during the day is when he needs to barf again- sadly he has become accustomed to that particular wake up call-but it still makes it harder to go back to sleep after the strain it takes to empty his stomach. Then he tries to eat again with marginal success that goes to waste two hours later. To sum up his day, it sucked. And it was only Wednesday.

 

He feels strung out and exhausted by the time it’s actually socially acceptable to go to sleep for the night. And as pathetic as it sounds, he’s tempted to text Cas. It would be nice to have someone to bitch to, and he knows Cas probably wouldn’t mind, but in the end he can’t. It would sound too much like whining or like he was asking for help, and Dean Winchester doesn’t whine.  And he doesn’t need anybody. He’ll just have to suck it up, he thinks as he tries to get comfortable in his bed again. But Cas’s scent has almost faded from the way he’d practically smothered it all day, so the comfort that was unknowingly instilled is gone.

 

Fuck it was going to be a long night.

 

And he really needed sleep. His time to make a decision was slowly coming to a close, the time allotted going by way too fucking fast. Every day seemed to drag on forever, but over all, seemed to pass in a blink of an eye. How exactly was he going to go about this? Just imagining sitting down to talk with Cas about this makes his already queasy stomach churn with unease, causing him to toss and turn to try to alleviate his discomfort.

 

It doesn’t get better. The rest of the night goes the same way, with Dean too stressed and restless to keep his eyes shut for more than an hour at a time.

 

He goes through a million different scenarios in his head, each worst than the last, but he never gets far enough into one to guess what the Alpha’s reaction will be. Like Cas said, it was ultimately his body, and therefor his decision, but he felt like a third party observer. Distant, not entirely a part of the action, so it didn’t sit well with him to have all this weight on his shoulders. It was like it was happening to someone else, and he was just an unlucky bystander who got to watch them slowly fall apart. And Cas was an integral part of that. He was watching everything unravel right along with him.

 

At least no matter how this went down, it would be over by the end of the week.

 

This was his only comfort as he watched the sun light slowly make it’s way across his room. They could get this taken care of, and there’d be no more stress, no more fucking vomit, and no more of this weak omega shit, he thought as he quickly made his way to the bathroom _again_ to do exactly what he’d been thinking about.

 

He’d give it two more hours. If he still felt like his apartment was a fucking boat, he’d call in sick again. Might as well, since this might be the last time before he goes back to his workaholic ways. He could count how many days of work he’d missed on one hand before all this shit happened. That was probably the only reason Bobby hadn’t chewed him out the way he probably deserved….and because he’d known him before his voice cracked, but whatever.

 

But two hours come and go with no change.

 

It’s starting to look like a repeat of yesterday as he hangs up on Bobby’s grumbling again and heads to bed. This time though, as soon as he hits the mattress, his phone vibrates with a text.

 

**:Are you feeling better this morning?**

Of course it’s Cas. Who else would it be, honestly?

 

**:Nope. Had to call in sick.**

The _again_ is implied.

 

He waits for a reply but it doesn’t come, so he carries on with his quest to bury himself completely in his blankets. It’s fucking cold for September, and he is not having it.

 

Almost an hour later though, Cas finally texts him back.

 

**:You’re not the only one.**

 

  1. Does that mean what he thinks it does?



 

His suspicion is confirmed when he hears a knock at his door. It’s Cas, and he’s not in his business casual for once, or that weird ass trench coat he likes to wear. He’s wearing _jeans_ , and a soft, worn looking gray t-shirt. Dean’s never seen him look so…relaxed?

 

“Cas. What are you doing here, man?” he asked as he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly and tried not to ogle the man before him, “I thought I told you to spare yourself. There’s nothing pretty going on here, believe me.”

 

Cas raises his eyebrows at that but does a quick assessment for himself, looking like a doctor again as he looks Dean up and down.

 

“And I thought I told you,” he says softly, “that you being sick doesn’t bother me at all.”

 

He does have a point.

 

Stepping back to let Cas in, Cas goes to set down the food he brought, but waits until Dean follows him before sitting down.

 

“That’s actually why I’m here, Dean,” Cas says, staring determinedly down at the floor.

 

“You’re here to watch me throw up? Cuz’ I gotta say, that’s pretty weird, even for you,” he replies, smirking when he sees Cas roll his eyes. Yep, just how he’d pictured it.

 

“No, Dean. I have a proposition for you. But I don’t think you’re going to like it.”

 

This is why Cas was having a hard time meeting his eyes. Well, this should be interesting.

 

“Alright, hit me. Cuz’ I really want to pass the fuck out right now.”

 

Looking up cautiously from the floor, he stares at the couch for a second before finally finding Dean’s face again.

 

“I know you’ve been struggling with morning sickness, particularly during these last few days, and I think you know that I could be of assistance with easing your discomfort.”

 

Wincing, he’d prefer it if Cas had said anything else to describe him puking. Putting a name to it made it too real. In his head he was just always nauseous. And no, him knowing what Cas thought he knew was not something he actually knew. Or else he would not have suffered in silence.

 

“How exactly do you plan on doing that, Cas?” he asked skeptically.

 

 “With scent, Dean.” Cas sighed quietly, looking resigned.

 

Oh hell no. “What are you talking about, dude?”

 

His mind flashes to the times where he was vulnerable and fucking freaking out, and Cas freak’in cradled him like a lover would, and pretty much forced him to calm down.

 

“It’s not what you’re imagining, I assure you,” Cas actually had the nerve to look amused at Dean’s obvious fear, “And I’m almost positive you will experience some kind of improvement with your nausea and vomiting.”

 

Dean narrows his eyes in suspicion, cuz’ scenting was pretty fucking personal, and Cas had to know by now how he felt about getting personal.

 

“I’m fine. I told you I was fine before,” he says defensively, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

 

Cas steps a little closer, eyes kind of sad and concerned, like he was approaching a wounded animal. “You’re obviously not fine, Dean. I can tell. I know this is uncomfortable for you to talk about, but I think I have a solution that will allow me to help, and allow you as much comfort as possible while taking care of the worst of the sickness.”

 

When Dean doesn’t say anything, only continues looking as Cas with distrust, Castiel finally sits down on the couch. Except instead of taking his usual corner, he sits right in the middle.

 

“Just try, Dean. What is the worst that can happen?”

 

Dean laughs bitterly at that, because the worst has already happened. But he does slowly make his way over to Cas, standing in front of the couch looking down at him, unsure of what to do next, feeling distinctly insecure.

 

Cas pats the spot right next to him, saying, ”Just sit, Dean. I’ll help you.”

 

Knowing this can’t be going anywhere good, he reluctantly does as he’s told.

 

Cas looks at him with a surprised but pleased smile, and instead of immediately showing Dean what they would be doing(Or not doing if Dean had anything to say about it), he reaches for the remote to turn on the tv; picking something mindless after only a few channel changes.

 

But then he’s inching himself closer to Dean.

 

Closer and closer, until Cas is a solid wall of heat and warmth all along his side.

 

And then he stops.

 

But it doesn’t matter, because Cas’s scent, the one he’s been so careful to keep his distance from in person, hits him like a freight train. And it’s _so_ good.

 

Every ounce of fight in him drains away completely as he slumps back in relief; that scent filling his nose and head so completely, his nausea is pushed to the back of his mind, an after thought. Clenching his eyes shut though, he knows he should not be doing this.

 

They sit in silence for a while, feeling each other out, but Dean has so many questions. So many things he needs answers to. He can’t even relax like his body is telling him to, high off that scent that makes his entire being want to go limp and absorb it all, because his head won’t shut the fuck up.

 

“Why is this happening Cas?” he finally has to ask. Cas had been staring at the screen, but he could feel how tense he was, and he knew he had been watching and waiting for Dean to say something that would break this little spell.

 

Cas closes his eyes when Dean opens his.

 

“I’m not sure that you will like my answer, Dean.”

 

There he goes again, looking all sad and lost. _Fuck_ , that made it so much harder to hold on to his determination, when all he wanted was for that look to disappear this moment.

 

“How about you stop guessing what I will and won’t like then, Cas,” he says softly, “you’ll save yourself a lot of grief that way.” At Cas’s small smile, he says, “Just tell me.”

 

Cas hesitates before opening his eyes again, and leans back completely against the couch so he’s even with Dean, everything from their shoulders to legs firmly pressed against each other; with both of them staring up at the boring white ceiling.

 

“If I had to guess, and this is in my professional opinion as well,” Cas starts haltingly, “Besides initial attraction, the only cases for which two people would react this strongly to the other’s scent and presence, is because they are mated.”

 

“Then why is this happening to us?” he blurts out desperately, “We aren’t mated!”

 

Cas purses his lips, but otherwise doesn’t join in on the panic.

 

“Well I am well aware of that fact, our bodies seem to think otherwise. It’s not conscious thought, Dean.” He tries to explain, “It’s pure instinct. Our biology’s way of finding a mate, and acting as such for each individual.”

 

What the actual fuck. “Is that why you smell so fucking good all the time?” he demands. Cuz’ that has seriously been bugging the shit out of him.

 

“To you, Yes,” Cas says, “For a long time, people have identified their mates due in large part by their scent. Within the dynamics of things, we have kept that primitive attribute that simplifies the process of seeking out companionship. It’s been said and proven in many cases, that your mate will smell the _best_ to you. And in their scent alone, can you sense deeper emotions and instill comfort as well as all other things shared between mates. That’s why I think that’s what’s happening here. What I _know_ is happening here, because I can feel you.”

 

God, he thought that had just been him being fucking paranoid!

 

“What do you mean?” he barely chokes out.

 

“I can feel you, Dean Winchester. Whether you like it or not,” he says simply, “And I apologize if that is something that makes you uncomfortable, but I cannot control it any more than you can…Not that I would try to anyway. No, right now, it’s a Godsend.”

 

“How could you say that?” Dean asks in disbelief, “How could this possibly be a good thing, Cas?”

 

“Because, Dean,” Cas says, finally turning his head to stare into Dean’s eyes, another tiny smile on his lips, “I can see how much it has helped you these last few weeks.”

 

Dean has no response, so he continues on. Completely serious, and more intense than he’s ever seen him, “As much as I know you resent the connection between us, it _is_ there, Dean. It’s a tangible thing. Something I want for you to want more than anything in this world. Because I want it like that. Want you. I don’t wish to scare you, that’s not what this is about. This is about us, and the way you make me feel. How I want to make you feel.

 

You don’t have to hurt anymore, Dean. If you let me in, I promise I would do everything in my power to protect you. From whatever has kept you from being your true self for all these years, and I would do my best to protect you from yourself.”

 

His voice breaks a little on the last word, and Dean can see how Cas’s eyes suddenly become glassy, so overcome with emotion, he has to pause to keep it together. Dean can only stare back numbly. Cas takes a deep breath to compose himself, and when he continues, his voice is strong and sure once more.

 

“I told you the night I met you, that I was an efficient people reader. While true, that skill is rendered unnecessary when it comes to you. You unintentionally wear your heart on your sleeve, Dean, which makes it easy to see how hard you are on yourself.”

 

Dean bites his lip and turns away at this, but a gentle hand grabs his chin to keep him from losing eye contact.

 

“Don’t, Dean,” Cas says softly, “You need to hear this, beautiful, if only once. I don’t know what has happened in the past to make you so fearful of what you are, and you don’t have to tell me ever, if you don’t want to. But this self-loathing you carry around like a badge isn’t healthy. It’s probably another factor in the reasons you’re so ill. It’s poison, Dean, to feel so harshly about yourself the way I know you do. Whatever happened in the past, it needs to actually _be_ in the past; you need to let it go.”

 

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about!” Dean spits angrily, standing abruptly to tower over Castiel, “You have NO fucking clue!”

 

But Cas doesn’t look phased. He just stares up at Dean and waits, looking just as tired as Dean feels.

 

Dean’s hands go to grip at his hair, feeling the slight pain ground him a little as he comes down from his anger, almost panting to get his breathing under control. This is not how he saw his day going.

 

When Cas can see he’s calm again, he leans forward to gently take Dean’s hand; pulling him back on to the couch before letting it go. And Dean tells his head to shut the fuck up again when it registers with him that he immediately misses the warmth of Cas’s hand.

 

“I’m sorry, Dean. I’m so sorry for whatever happened, for whoever made you feel like you were some how less. Because you are so much _more_ , than you give yourself credit for, Dean. So much more. I’ve never seen such a bright soul in my life, and I haven’t known you more than a few weeks.”

 

Cas pauses, looking like he’s trying to find the right words, not noticing how hard Dean is hanging on every single one of them now.

 

“And you are an Omega, Dean,” he finally says, “I see the way you cringe away from that word, but you don’t need to. It’s not a derogatory term, nor is it associated with any negative connotations. It’s _nothing_ to be ashamed of. You are perfect the way you are, better than perfect in my opinion,” Cas says with a quirk to his mouth, before it straightens out again in his seriousness. “You can’t chose the way you were born, Dean. It’s impossible. You were made this way for a reason…And maybe this is your reason, right now.”

 

“Cas…” he starts brokenly, because he was hoping to avoid having to tell Castiel the decision he had come to. Especially right now, as he can feel his hormones playing with his emotions again, making him feel like he was about to cry.

 

“Wait Dean,” Cas interrupts, raising his hand and shaking his head in a small movement, “You don’t have to say anything. We’re both emotional at the present time, so any decisions can be put off till tomorrow… I just wanted to give you your answers.” He says, before dropping his head to look down at his hands.

 

They sit in silence again. This one so much more heavy than the one previous, with all the weight from everything just said. There is just so much to process, it’s pretty fucking overwhelming. One thing does stand out in Dean’s head though, and he can’t let it go unacknowledged. Not now.

 

“I think that’s the most you’ve said in the entire time I’ve known you, dude.”

 

Cas turns to regard him incredulously for a second, before bursting out in laughter. It’s not the little amused chuckle he’s seen in the past either, it’s a full body kind of laugh that makes the man look ten years younger. And it’s fucking contagious. What was just minutes before was a completely serious and tense atmosphere, is now the two of them gasping for air between their laughs.

 

 

 

Later that night, when everything is finally settled, and Dean slips into an exhausted sleep with his head pillowed on Cas’s shoulder with Cas’s arm holding him close, Castiel whispers, “What am I going to do with you, Dean Winchester?”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we're coming up to the big daaaaay! Expect the unexpected guys, because I've been waiting to write this next chapter from the very beginning. Hopefully I'll have another day like today where I feel good enough to write!
> 
>  
> 
> Sorry about mistakes, I have to write in bits and pieces at the moment!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are SO lucky. This little chapter was supposed to be how the last one ended, but it felt too long so I separated them. Sorry for the length, but I'm sure the end will make up for it ;)

 

 

 

When Dean woke up in his bed the next morning, he knew immediately that this wasn’t where he had fallen asleep. He can’t exactly complain though, he actually slept pretty well; but when he wracks his brain, fighting the drowsiness that’s keeping his mind fuzzy, he winces.

 

He distinctly remembers falling asleep on the couch. With Cas. _Shit._

Shrugging off his mental fogginess, he sits up abruptly with the realization that Cas had probably _carried_ him to bed; when something else catches his attention.

 

In his right hand, he’d been clutching something small and soft in his sleep. It looked like fabric maybe?

 

But when he brought it closer to his face to inspect, he knew immediately what it was. That scent was all over it, and he’d been fucking _cuddling_ with it all night.

 

It was Cas’s _shirt._

 

Rolling his eyes at himself, he throws the stupid thing behind himself so he can check his phone for the time. It doesn’t look like it’s too late yet, the sun not as high and bright across his room, but he’d fallen asleep way earlier than normal last night and hadn’t been able to set an alarm.

 

Instead of the time, when he checks his phone, he sees that he has a text from Cas.

 

**:Hope you don’t mind that I borrowed one of your shirts. I thought the exchange might be beneficial to your sleep. As well as the fact that you refused to let it go when I tried to leave. I’ll be back tonight to talk, Dean. I’ll see you then**

It was ten o’clock. It was ten o’clock on Friday. Friday, the last day, the deadline he’d given himself for all his shit to be figured out. All his time was fucking gone. And now, it was really time; time for their talk, time for action, time to kiss this whole fucking nightmare good-bye.

 

If that were really the case though, shouldn’t that make him happy, or as least somewhat relieved? There was no reason why there should be a huge knot in his stomach, and a lump in his throat making it so difficult to keep pulling air through his lips. He felt like he could throw up. This time, not from the _morning sickness_ , but from the way he felt. The rug had just been pulled out from underneath his feet, and he’d lost his bearings completely.

 

All this time he knew he’d eventually get here, to this day. He thought he was ready for it to finally be done. But now that he was here, facing down the threat of confrontation… All he wanted was more time.

 

 This couldn’t be it.

 

Not after last night. Not after Cas had actually made him _feel_ something other than hatred and disgust and self-pity for once. He couldn’t put a name to what that feeling actually was, but he wanted to feel it again. Again and again until he knew every crevice of it and could seek out others like it and hold on to them forever.

 

 Which was a terrifying thought now.

 

As he got ready to leave for work, he couldn’t help but wonder if Cas would stick around after tonight. The Alpha had insisted that he would go along with whatever Dean chose, but Dean knew what Cas really wanted. It was in the way he stared at Dean, and the way he made sure Dean ate and slept enough. In the way he’d pretty much told Dean straight up yesterday that he wanted to be the thing their bodies thought they already were.

 

It just wasn’t something Dean could give. Or _be_ , actually. If he couldn’t even think the word omega, how was he supposed to accept it, _be_ that? What Cas wanted, even though that isn’t what he’d said, was for Dean to ultimately embrace the epitome of what an omega _was._ And he was just not cut out for that.

 

For as much doubt as he was having now though, he couldn’t really envision another option other than the one he’d come to. It was this or that, black or white, with no shades of gray, and he felt like he was trapped having to choose between the lesser of two evils.

 

All through out work, he could feel the panic start to grow, hot and spiky, inching its way up from his toes until it settled in his chest, weighing him down with it’s gravity. He barely talked to anyone, ignoring the guys when they gathered around in the front to gossip like old ladies, and he couldn’t stomach more than a protein bar on his lunch break. He ended up sitting inside his Baby listening to Zep, hoping the familiar words and beat would put him at ease enough to tackle the rest of his shift.

 

And it did, to some extent. When he went back inside, he was able to lose himself within the inner mechanisms of the car in front of him. If something was broken or damaged in a car, there was always a solution. There was always an answer for the problem at hand, and he could fix it. It was simple, and it was mindless. He’d been doing it for years and years and he found comfort in how everything had it’s place, and everything had it’s function.

 

When he checks  the time a few hours later and sees that his shift is over in fifteen minutes, he ignores it in favor of focusing with new vigor on his work. He doesn’t want to go home now, doesn’t want to face what he knows is waiting for him back at his apartment.

 

Besides, with the way Bobby had been staring at him oddly all day, putting in some extra time wouldn’t hurt.

 

Bobby hadn’t really comment on the two days of sick leave, but he wasn’t one to voice his problems or feelings in the first place. He and Dean shared that characteristic, which made it hard sometimes to communicate when there was an issue that needed to be addressed. It was better to be on the old man’s good side anyway, so this didn’t have to be all about the other thing.

 

And Cas usually came over a few hours after he got off, so there was no harm in blowing off some steam by fixing a few more things. Maybe even finishing this car all together. The sooner he finished, the sooner he got paid, and he could definitely use the cash…

 

 

 

 

By the time he’s pulling up to the apartment, it’s almost nine o’clock. He hadn’t even noticed how dark it had gotten until the shop went silent, and he realized everyone had already gone home.

 

He’d never felt more reluctant to leave work in his life, but the time for stalling had long passed.

 

Climbing up the stairs as slow as he can take them, he’s surprised when he turns the corner at the top and sees Cas sitting against his door. And he’s surprised by the butterflies that immediately fill his stomach at the sight.

 

When the fuck did that happen?!

 

He must have made some kind of noise or something, because Cas looks up at him. And fucking _smiles._

 

Dean has kept the poor guy waiting for god knows how long, and here this guy is smiling at Dean like he hung the fucking moon. And it’s not even that little smile he gets most of the time when Cas is amused or someone says something funny on tv, no. It’s that smile that he saw a glimpse of yesterday, the one in which Cas is just genuinely happy to see him- and it makes his stomach sink.

 

Because he’s sure he won’t see that smile ever again.

 

Dean tries to paste on something like a smile on face, but he knows it can’t look quite right. It certainly didn’t feel right, and Cas seems to see right through him on a good day.

 

“Hey Cas,” he says without looking at him, choosing instead to walk around him to unlock the door, “Sorry to keep you, man.”

 

“It’s fine, Dean,” Cas assures him as he makes his way to his feet and brushes off his back. “I got off work early today, and thought I’d head over. I should have asked you when you got off beforehand.”

 

Dean doesn’t answer as he finally gets the door unlocked, with Cas standing right behind him. Just like that first night. They’ve come full circle now, leaving Dean even more confused and broken than before.

 

But he can’t let Cas know yet. Can’t tell him. They still have a little time. He can see Cas brought food again, and for now he can pretend like this any other night.

 

“Whatcha got there, buddy?” he asks, gesturing to the food as he strips off his jacket in the door way.

 

“It’s Italian food,” Cas says looking at his feet, and Dean is a little surprised to see a blush stain his tan cheeks. “I’ve noticed that you’ve enjoyed it the most out of everything else, so I went back. They also bake whole, fresh pies to-go. Pie, not cake.” He finishes with a smirk, meeting Dean’s eye again.

 

And how could he not smile at that? He doesn’t even try not to, it comes naturally, and he can feel himself start to relax. This is Cas. Whatever happened, he could do this.

 

Answering Dean’s smile with his own, Cas takes a step towards the kitchen instead of the couch like usual.

 

“Is it alright if I use your microwave, Dean?” he asks, “The food has gotten a little cold.”

 

“Knock yourself out, man,” Dean says before heading over to the couch to put something on while they ate. But before he could sit down, there was a knock at the door.

 

“What the hell,” he muttered under his breath, as he goes to get the door. No one knocked on his door. Well, besides Cas, no one knocks on his door.

 

You’d think he’d have learned his lesson by now, and looked through the peep hole, but that was just too much effort. It was most likely his neighbor or something, he thinks as he opens the door.

 

It’s not.

 

For one shocked second, he’s frozen, mind going fucking blank as he stares at the person in front of him.

 

“Dad?”

 

And just like he hadn’t expected the person behind the door, he was wasn’t expecting the fist that sent him crashing to the floor.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not quite the way you thought this would go, huh? Haha, I love being evil.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all better love me...

 

 

 

Everything around him seemed to be moving in slow motion as he felt himself fall, and a million thoughts were flying through his head in that instance.

 

He could clearly see his dad’s face right before he drew his arm back for the hit; starting the spectrum of emotions at guilty, then surprised, then fucking _betrayed_. And Dean had been too shocked himself when John had finally settled on rage. His dad looked like he hadn’t slept in days, and the over grown scruff was telling of the time he’d been away from his home. But that flash of rage on his face would be one that Dean would never forget, cemented in his mind by it’s ugliness.

 

He could feel the pain from impact, all along the right side of his face where John had landed a solid punch. And he could feel the breath whoosh right out of him as he landed, sprawled out on the floor before he could right himself. His momentum had been taking him backwards, but he hadn’t landed flat on his back; as he’d had just enough control the throw out his hands at the last second in order to avoid hitting his already hurt head.

 

He could hear a low roar in his head, growing louder and louder, but it was dulled by the slow succession of everything around him; taking on an almost unreal, dream-like quality that he refused to give another thought on.

 

Because none of those other things mattered.

 

 They were rendered insignificant in the face of the one thought that kept repeating itself over and over again in his head. It took precedence above all else, making every thing around him fall away.

 

Again and again, all he could think was to; _protect, protect, protect, protect, protect my baby._

 

Wrapping his arms around his stomach as soon as he felt the floor beneath him, everything snapped into real time. Instead of slow motion, every thing was moving so quickly now, his mind was struggling to keep up with the chaos.

 

With that one thought, the most important thing, continuing to loop in his head, he was now able to come to a few other realizations.

 

The first being that roar he had thought was coming from his head from the shock. The dull roar was anything but now, and it was coming closer and closer from where it first sounded like it was coming from the kitchen.

 

 The sweet, timid, and gentle Alpha from a few minutes ago, was long gone.

 

In it’s place was someone he’d never seen before. Cas’s face was contorted with his anger, turning a dark red that only highlighted the blue/black in his eyes that caused him to look ever scarier, even more focused.

 

Cas was a predator, and he was about to take down his prey. The noise from before, a deep almost animalistic growl, was getting louder and louder because Cas was running full force past him.

 

Right for his father.

 

Having gathered his bearings enough to sit up some, Dean watched as Castiel, _Cas,_ tackled his father to the ground, snarling viciously as he did so. His father hadn’t been expecting the other Alpha, but by his answering growl, he was more than ready for a fight.

 

John and Cas rolled around trading punches for all but a second before Cas had the upper hand, fueled by his blind rage.

 

By the time Dean got to his feet, still cradling his stomach protectively, Castiel was sitting on his father’s chest, pinning John’s arms beneath him with his body weight, and delivering harsh blows to the man’s face over and over again.

 

Dean was still in shock, still in disbelief that this was even happening, because honestly? What the fuck? He hadn’t heard a peep from his father after all this time, and now he shows up, unannounced, and decided Dean deserves to be punished for something? It didn’t make any sense. He should feel angry, he should feel hurt, or confused or sad; or something usually associated with his father. But he doesn’t. As soon as he took that hit, something snapped in place for him. Everything had changed. And in the place off all those emotions, came a calm he’d never felt before, a confidence he hadn’t owned previously.

 

Shaking himself out of his thought, he takes a deep breath and knows what he has to do.

 

“Cas, stop!” he tells the Alpha who is wailing away on the other.

 

But Cas doesn’t listen, doesn’t appear to hear him at all, single minded in his ferocity. He can hear John talking shit between each punch, and he can see how badly the older man is struggling to get free. A few words catch Dean’s attention the most.

 

“Fucking _omega_ trash- I knew it-“ _punch_ , “SO glad I didn’t do it,” _punch,_ “Fucking _bitch!”_

 

Every word made Cas angrier and angrier, increasing the force of hits until he was punching John with his entire being, and he could tell Castiel was losing himself to it. It was like Cas was fucking possessed, a whole different person all together.

 

“Cas, wait!” Dean said, stepping forward to catch his arm before it landed again, “Let him up!”

 

“Let me go, Dean!” Cas snarled, spitting the words between his teeth as he struggled to continue the beat down he was currently delivering. “This man doesn’t deserve to take another breath.”

 

“To think I was-“ John pants before spitting a mouthful of blood at Dean’s feet, ”to think I was here to-to-“

 

But Cas doesn’t let him finish, wrestling his arm away from Dean, he punches him so hard it splits his lip, immediately drawing enough blood to start dripping down his chin and neck, mingling with the blood from the cut above his left eye that had been sliding down his face.

 

“Cas!” he yells again, trying to pull him off John by his shoulders from behind while Cas continues to fight against his hold. “Cas, stop! I want to hear what he has to say!”

 

This finally gets Cas’s attention as he turns to meet Dean’s eyes mid swing; and they make Dean want to step back. Because his eyes are huge, red rimmed, and dilated in his wrath.

 

“NO! You don’t need to hear this, Dean,” Cas bites, begging Dean with his eyes to let him keep going, “No one should have to hear what this pathetic excuse for a human being has to say.”

 

“Self-righteous little Alpha thinks he can do whatever he wants- making my son into a bitch-“ John chooses that moment to mutter.

 

He can tell Cas is about to ignore him as he looks down at John with disdain. His scent, once so sweet and calming, now has the bitter smell of sulfur and burnt rubber radiating off of Cas in waves; trying to bring Dean to his level of anger and hatred.  He doesn’t even know who the man underneath him is, unless he heard Dean from the kitchen, but he’s going off instinct. It’s Alpha protectiveness that’s dominating everything else, pushing Cas to his limits on control, and it’s clear that Cas has given it free reign.

 

He needs to get through to him. As much as John deserves this, he can’t let Cas do something he’ll regret in the future; murder being frowned upon in most civilized places, and he needs Cas. Plus, Dean does actually want to hear what John has to say. He’ll probably regret it later, but he wants answers for why John is here in the first place.

 

Keeping one hand over his stomach instinctively, he squats down next to Cas’s side, careful to avoid John’s kicking legs, and uses his other hand to gently cup the Alpha’s cheek; turning his face to meet Dean’s eyes again as he’d turned to glare down at John.

 

“Hey,” Dean says softly to Cas, “Look at me.”

 

Cas is clearly reluctant, but the tone of Dean’s voice has shocked him into grudging obedience, turning to regard Dean with open curiosity. Cas is so fucking tense, every muscle waiting for Dean’s permission to keep at it, but he won’t get that, not this time. He’s frozen as Dean begins to stroke the side of his face tenderly, calming him down at the same time as drawing his attention away from his father.

 

“It’s okay, Cas. You need to stop now, alright? It’s okay,” Dean continues on in that same calming voice, barely loud enough to be heard over the two other man’s panting, and John’s indecipherable grumbling. But he knows Cas can hear him.

 

Cas closes his eyes at the touch, leaning into Dean’s palm. “He hurt you, Dean,” he argues roughly, voice hoarse from growling, “That is _not_ okay.”

 

“I know, I know,” he soothes, “but I’m fine, see? We’re fine.”

 

Cas opens his eyes at that, looking confused. But the anger has started to slowly drain out of his eyes enough to look Dean up and down, which is the important thing. Confused Cas, he can handle, Angry-On-a-War-Path Cas? Not so much. Holy shit, he had not seen that one coming. But then again, he hadn’t seen this, or the last three months coming either.

 

“Who is this man, Dean?” Cas grits out, finally catching his breath, and trying to maintain eye contact with Dean. He still has John pinned to the ground, but at least he’s keeping his hands to himself for the time being.

 

“Cas, meet my Dad,” he says, smiling bitterly, “Dad, meet Cas.”

 

Cas inhales sharply, turning to regard the older man beneath him incredulously, but Dean keeps a firm grip on his face.

 

“Not exactly how you imagined the whole, ‘meet the parents’ thing would go huh?” he tries to joke, but if anything, Cas looks even angrier.

 

“Your _father_ is the one that hurt you, Dean? How long has this been going on? If that is the case then I-“

 

“It’s not like that,” he interrupts, “Yeah he was a fucking manipulative bastard, but this is the first time he’s ever gotten violent.”

 

Cas looks at him skeptically, and it’s clear he thinks Dean is lying to him. He has every right to think that with the way this had escalated so quickly. They were fucking lucky none of his neighbors had heard the altercation and had come to join the party, or worse, called the cops.

 

“I swear, Cas. This is the first time,” Dean promises solemnly, holding Cas’s eyes.

 

“Then _I_ swear that it will be the last,” Cas says, just as gravely, eyes going soft for a second as stares back at Dean.

 

Yes, they’re having a moment with Dean’s father pinned beneath Cas, spewing obscenities at them, but Dean has learned to take what he can out of life, and this is one of those times.

 

Smiling slightly, he pats Cas’s face lightly, “I know, little Alpha. Come on, let’s get up.”

 

When Cas still looks unconvinced at the idea, Dean drops his hand from his face to grab his arm. Standing up is a challenge after squatting for so long, but when he does eventually make it to his feet again, he manages to bring Cas with him.

 

Either John has exhausted himself from trying to get free, or Cas really did a number on him, because as soon as Cas is off him John doesn’t try to do anything more than get his elbows underneath him to prop himself a little to stare at them. God, John’s face is a mess. If Dean had to guess, it was the second option that was keeping John from trying anything else.

 

Not that he would get very far with Dean’s new guard dog that is, he thinks with exasperation.

 

Because while Dean had managed to coax Cas to his feet, Cas insisted in standing in front of Dean, blocking him with his body so that he could only see John’s face. Rolling his eyes at the display, he had to let Cas know that he wasn’t some damsel in distress. After all, John had sucker punched him, and everyone knows that doesn’t count!

 

Taking a step forward so that he and Cas were side-by-side, he ignores the worry still dripping off of Cas, and instead takes Cas’s hand in his own and intertwines their fingers. There. That should be enough to put Cas’s instincts at ease a little.

 

It’s only then that he gives his father his full attention.

 

“What the hell are you doing here, dad?” he says calmly, choosing to start with the basics.

 

John’s eyes never waver from the death glare he’s aiming at Cas, so Dean clears his throat obnoxiously to get his attention. “Hey! Eyes on me asshole! You’re lucky we’re even letting you have a say in the first place.”

 

John finally looks at Dean then, that same look of betrayal on his face from before, and laughs mirthlessly under his breath, “ _letting_ me,” he repeats, shaking his head.

 

“Yeah, dad, letting you. If you hadn’t noticed, you were getting your ass kicked by my friend Cas over here,” he says, nodding his head towards Cas, “and he’d be more than happy to continue if you have nothing to say for yourself.”

 

Turning his head away for a second, John bites his lip before raising his eyebrows and clenching his eyes shut. When he opens them and turns to look at Dean again, he braces himself for the shit-storm his dad is about to release.

 

“To think…” John starts with a little snear, just as he had between punches, “that I came all this way to _apologize.”_

That was something John Winchester has _never_ done, and Dean’s sure the surprise must show on his face.

 

“What are you talking about?” he asks incredulously.

 

“Bobby called,” John says thinly, “He was _worried_ about you. Telling me how sick you had been, and how much work you’ve had to miss. The old man has been nagging me for _months_ , telling me I’d been too hard on you, pretty much fucking begging me to check up on you,” he says with disgust, “And I was starting to think I had been wrong. That you’d been telling the truth before, and were _actually_ sick,” John laughs.

 

“So here I am,” his voice dipping as he spreads out his hands, palms up, and eyes crazed. “I came all this way to give you a second chance only to be proven right from the beginning. I can smell you Dean,” John spits, “you smell like a mated whore.”

 

Cas immediately makes to step forward with a growl, but Dean stops him with a hand to his chest.

 

This isn’t Castiel’s fight.

 

And this conversation was a long time coming. It was time to do what Dean should have done a long fucking time ago.

 

“I’m not mated, dad,” Dean says with a smile, the cool calmness still helping to keep his emotions in check. “And you _were_ wrong before. I _was_ sick. But you were too blinded by your self-righteous bullshit to see past your narrow minded little world. You jumped to conclusions because that’s what you’ve been expecting since the day I presented, isn’t it?” he pauses, “Did I even stand a chance?” he can’t help but ask quietly.

 

Narrowing his eyes at his son, John only purses his lips in response.

 

“No? That’s what I thought,” Dean continues, answering for him, “Just wish I coulda figured that out a little sooner. Coulda saved myself a lot of regret…”

 

Cas looks over at him with concern, but Dean only squeezes his hand and keeps going.

 

“There is a million things I could say to you right now, things I’ve been waiting to say for the majority of my life-“

 

“Are you fucking kidding me right now Dean?” his father stops him mid-sentence, “All I’ve done is try to prepare you for the real world! Something like you will get trampled and stepped on if you don’t know what to expect!”

 

“The real world? You think _this_ is the real world? This is all your fault, dad! This is entirely of your making! You didn’t need to do the things you did when I was younger, or say the things you said. Because of you, I’m _scared_ of the real world. And now I gotta deal with that. Alone.”

 

“Well,” he amends as he feels the hand around his own give a little squeeze, “maybe with a little help.”

 

With the mention of Cas, John’s face hardens once more after it had slackened with confusion.

 

“How the fuck are you to tell me I’m wrong when that Alpha’s claim is all over you? He could’ve pissed on you, and the fucking _mated omega_ scent still would’ve been screamin’ at me loud and fucking clear. That man owns you, Dean. Whether you say so, or not.”

 

Well thank god the blockers masked the pregnancy scent, or this would have been a hell of a lot crazier.

 

“Honestly, dad? I don’t give a fuck what you think. And I don’t owe you any kind of explanations,” Dean says simply, “You tell yourself whatever you want to make yourself sleep better at night, but I’m done. Just like you were supposed to be done three months ago, except I mean it. You didn’t want me as a son? Fine. I don’t want or need you as a father.”

 

Whatever John had been expecting him to say, this wasn’t it. His mouth hung open as he stared up at Dean, paying no mind at all to the blood that had been steadily dripping all over his face. He opened and closed his mouth, looking like he intended on arguing, but no actual sounds came out.

 

Cas, who had been trying his hardest to stay quiet this whole time, finally took a step forward, looking back at Dean once before his eyes settled directly on John.

 

Dean didn’t know which was scarier, the out of control man from before, or this deathly calm that had settled over the Alpha, reminding Dean of a cobra coiling itself tight before its strike.

 

“Now that Dean has said his peace, I’m going to say mine before you leave,” Cas says softly, eyes anything but. “If you _ever_ even _think_ about hurting another hair on his head, I will fucking kill you. No questions asked, no hesitation.”

 

Holy shit. Was that the first time he’d ever heard Cas cuss? And apparently it was that time of night for death threats. There was no doubt in Dean’s mind that he meant every single word either.

 

Cas stares into John’s eyes before taking a step back, and then another, until it’s clear he’s trying to pull Dean back into the apartment. When they’re in the door- way, Dean stops him.

 

“You need to leave, John,” he says firmly, making sure to emphasize his name; having lost the privilege of Dean calling him his father, “And I don’t want to see you again. Next time I see your face, Cas won’t be the only one who can say they’ve kicked your ass.”

 

The last thing he sees of John’s face before shutting the door, illuminated by the one dim light outside his door, surprisingly, is a look of loss and confusion. Good. Hopefully he had finally been able to get through to the man. Just in time to cut ties with him once and for all.

 

As soon as the door is shut, Cas is taking him into his arms in a vice like grip, one arm going around his back, and the other to the back of his head to hold him close.

 

“God, Dean,” Cas croaks hoarsely into his hair, “You scared me to death. Are you alright?”

 

“Yeah, Cas. We’re all good,” he murmurs into Cas’s neck, taking that moment to inhale that amazing scent that was almost back to normal except for the concern tainting it. Nuzzling into him, feeling the slight scratch of his scruff, Dean lets Cas hold him for a moment, sensing that Cas needs this more than he does.

 

And Cas does. Standing there in the dark, their dinner and conversation from before forgotten, Cas holds Dean for long minutes, rubbing Dean’s back and stroking a hand through his hair, making sure Dean is actually alright for himself.

 

“I’m so sorry,” Cas’s whisper breaks the silence, “I’m so sorry I didn’t stop him. I’m sorry you got hurt, beautiful.”

 

“There isn’t anything you could have done Cas,” he assures him, “And I’m fine, dude, I swear. Do you think this is the first time I’ve been socked in the face?” he jokes, trying to break the tension, “This isn’t the first, and it probably won’t be the last.”

 

Cas growls low in his throat at the thought, but Dean pulls back enough to poke him firmly in the chest. “Hey. None of that Mr. Growly pants. You made your point tough guy, but I can handle myself, okay?”

 

Wincing, as he really takes in Dean’s face, Cas gently prods at what he can bet will be a fucking _awesome_ black eye tomorrow. “Lets avoid violence in the future though, shall we? And I ought to check out that eye, Dean. Just in case.”

 

He grudgingly agrees, even though he knows it’s just a fucking bruise, and he leads Cas down the hall to the bathroom for the best light. Opening the door and turning on the lights, Dean turns and hops up onto the sink counter to play patient. He’s fucking exhausted. After a day like today, the less time spent on his feet, the better.

 

Closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the mirror, he listens as Cas looks through his medical supplies underneath the sink. He’d shown Cas where it was when Dean had cut his finger at work a few days ago and Cas had insisted on treating it properly to avoid infection. Such a fucking doctor, he thinks fondly, smiling to himself.

 

“And what could you possibly be smiling about at a time like this?” Cas’s exasperated voice comes just to his side. Dean opens his eyes when he hears the cabinet shut, and feels the warmth of Cas stepping in between his legs to take in the damage, obviously having found what he was looking for.

 

“A lotta things, actually,” Dean says as he sits up straight to let Cas examine him, also cutting a lot of the space between them. “I guess…I dunno, I guess things aren’t as bad as I thought they were.”

 

“What are you talking about, Dean?” Cas asks, preoccupied with turning Dean’s face this way and that, trying to get the best light possible to make sure there wasn’t any more damage besides the bruising.

 

But Dean didn’t care about that right now. All he saw was the man in front of him. All that mattered in this very second was Cas, and their future together. It was like Dean was finally seeing clearly for the first time in his entire life.

 

And he’d never seen anything so beautiful.

 

Lowering Cas’s hands away from his face gently, Dean reaches up to either side of Cas’s to bring his lips to his own; kissing him softly like he’d wanted to do all day.

 

It’s short and sweet, and when Dean pulls away to gauge Cas’s reaction, the expression on Cas’s faces is fucking priceless. He could now have two heads and Cas couldn’t have been more shocked.

 

Laughing softly, he brings one hand down to wrap around his stomach while the other continues stroking the side of Cas’s face.

 

“Lets do this, Cas.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It felt a liiiiittle too cruel to leave you guys like that. Although I truly loved the panicked comments! Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, let me know whatcha think? ;)


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Sunday friends.Thanks for all of your support- it motivates me to write faster, and do better! Enjoy:)

 

 

 

He had to hand it to the guy, he’d been wrong thinking that Cas couldn’t be more shocked. Cas’s entire face was frozen in a mask of utter surprise that had him scrambling to find words to properly articulate himself. For such a big bad Alpha, the expression on his face was thoroughly amusing Dean.

 

“What are you- are you referring to- I thought,”Cas stutters out frantically, “I thought for sure-earlier-you were going to say-”

 

“I know, Cas. And you were right,” he breaks in, unable to completely lose the smile on his face despite the seriousness of the situation, “I was. But I changed my mind.”

 

Poor Cas. From his father’s appearance, from the kiss, and from Dean’s new revelation, he can tell Cas is floundering in the wake of so _much._ Trying desperately to play catch up, and to assimilate the new information _now_ , compared to what he’d originally been thinking throughout the day. Probably the whole month, actually. Dean hadn’t been overtly encouraging or enthusiastic, so it’s no wonder Cas correctly guessed his previous intentions.

 

But then Cas blinks, and all the blood drains from his face, leaving him looking pale and anxious, and Alpha concern floods the bathroom. “Dean, did you hit your head when you fell? I can see the wound to your face, but you might have sustained a concussion upon impact when you hit the floor.”

 

Now it’s Dean’s turn to be confused.

 

“No Cas,” he says slowly, “I didn’t hit my head.”

 

But Cas ignores him as he gently cradles Dean’s head, running his fingers through his hair starting from the top of Dean’s head, and going to the back; muttering under his breath, “tell me if anything hurts.”

 

“Cas! Stop it- I didn’t hit my head, and this is real,” he says, grabbing Cas’s hands from feeling for lumps. “It’s my face that’s fucked up, not my head,” he reminds him with a smile, trying to get Cas to snap out of it. “Well...my head is probably fucked up too, just not the way you’re thinking.”

 

“Enough. You don’t get to talk badly about yourself anymore. I won’t allow it,” Cas says angrily, flipping his fingers to squeeze Dean’s between them. If there’s any way to bring Cas out of a freak out, it’s apparently talking shit on himself. Good to know for the future, he thinks wryly.

 

“You won’t let me, huh?” he smirks, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

 

“Absolutely not. No one else gets to, why should you get special treatment?” Cas asks, finally smiling that little smile he was worried wouldn’t be making an appearance tonight. At least now, he doesn’t have to worry about losing it in the immediate future.

 

“I mean, _I_ think I’m pretty damn special,” he says in mock offense, “Just you wait till I’m pretty again. Then I’ll definitely warrant some special privileges. For now though, I could settle for some serious sleep. Cuz’ holy shit, it’s been a long day.”

 

“That, it has,” Cas agrees quietly, “Let’s get some ice on that eye, then I’ll leave you in peace.”

 

“Wait. Don’t you think we should talk? You weren’t exactly buying what I was selling a minute ago…” he trails off, concerned that Cas was willingly to leave without getting the answers he so obviously needed.

 

Letting go of their fingers Dean hadn’t realized were still in Cas’s hold, Cas takes a step back, and noticeably takes a deep breath; staring up at Dean sadly.

 

“Dean…you’re obviously in shock,” Cas sighs, probably giving him a run for his money on who looked more exhausted, “What you’re saying now…what you want… might change tomorrow. We can talk then.”

 

God, he was an asshole, Dean thinks to himself. He can tell how badly Cas is trying not to get his hopes up, thinking Dean will change his mind once he’d gotten some sleep and gotten over John’s attack. All those times he’d carefully shot Cas down when he alluded to their situation was now coming back to bite him in the ass. He wasn’t stupid, he knew how badly Cas wanted this, just as Cas wasn’t stupid either; he knew how much Dean _didn’t_. He didn’t think he could explain his sudden change of heart to Cas, so he would have to _show_ him until he could. What used to be something Dean never thought he wanted, was now something he couldn’t _imagine_ giving up.

 

But he’d have to do this tactfully, and tactful was NOT a word he’d use to describe himself.

 

Since Dean hadn’t responded, lost in thought as he was, Cas had broken one of those instant ice packs from the first aid kit as well retrieved a wash cloth from beneath the sink. Wrapping the cloth tightly around the chilled package, Cas gently sets it against the side of Dean’s face, partially blocking his vision on the right side to cover the worst of it.

 

“That should suffice. I understand you wish to go to sleep immediatly, but it would be beneficial if you iced for at least 20 minutes to help reduce swelling,” he says, almost, but not quite in Doctor mode as Dean replaces Cas’s hand to hold the ice against his face.

 

“Cas?” he asks quietly as Cas turns to begin cleaning the mess he made rummaging through the kit. He turns back when he hears Dean’s voice, and his face softens once again.

 

“Yes, Dean?”

 

“I was-uhh…kinda hoping you would stay, actually.”

 

 He was going for nonchalant, but he didn’t quite manage it, too much at stake to even pretend to be flippant. 

 

Cas blinks at him in surprise again, but it quickly morphs into that weirdly intense staring into your soul stare that he’s only ever seen Cas do. He doesn’t know what Cas is looking for, and he’s not sure what he’s found in Dean’s eyes, but it had to have been a good thing.

 

“Of course, Dean,” he says softly, soundly oddly relieved. Apparently Dean’s not the only one who doesn’t want to be alone tonight… Or have the other father away than they need to be.

 

Having made his choice, Dean is done trying to push Cas away.

 

Hopping down from his perch brings Dean face-to-face, and toe-to-toe with Castiel. And he doesn’t shy away from the closeness like he would have in the past. He’s about a half inch taller than Cas, but right now, he feels like he’s three inches shorter than the Alpha. Cas is such a huge presence, even when he’s taking care of Dean, or just being the quiet, calm man he usually is, he seems to take up the whole room, filling it with _Alpha_ , and making Dean feel small at the same time feeling _safe._

“Come on, Cas,” he whispers, barely a few inches between them, only slightly awkward as Dean continues to press the ice pack against his face, “Lets get out of here.”

 

And Cas doesn’t argue. He doesn’t argue when Dean leads him to the bedroom, and he doesn’t argue when Dean gets into bed, fully clothed, and beckons Cas over to the other side. There’s no fucking way Cas is sleeping on the couch.

 

Shivering, he tries to get under the covers as quickly as he can. He didn’t notice until now, but he’s fucking freezing; and the ice is doing nothing to help. Cas looks at him in concern as he gets into bed slowly, but Dean just shakes his head, he’s coming down from an adrenaline rush paired with his usual temperament of always feeling cold. There’s nothing Cas can do about that.

 

Until Cas gets under the blankets.

 

Because _holy shit_ , he can feel the heat radiating off of Cas. And with that scent so fucking _close_ , it’s all he can do to keep himself on his side of the bed.

 

Biting his lip, he turns on his side to mirror Cas, ice pack forgotten on his pillow behind him as he does so.

 

“Dean, it’s okay,” Cas says in mostly a whisper, “I can feel your longing. And I can assure you, after the night we’ve just had, I’d like nothing more than to hold you.”

 

“But if that makes you uncomfortable,” he continues quickly when Dean doesn’t immediately respond, “We could try to replicate what we did yesterday. It seemed to be sufficient in aiding your sleep, and it helped put both our mating instincts at ease.”

 

Instead of answering, Dean rolls towards Cas until they’re pressed together, then keeps going until he’s on his side again. It’s fucking weird to do, especially with a  guy, but he wraps an arm around Cas’s torso and lays his head on the man’s shoulder; getting himself as close as possible to Cas’s neck in order to inhale as much of that scent as possible. And the Alpha is so _warm._ He can’t resist worming his way closer, trying to absorb the heat as quickly as he can.

 

Cas, who is stiff with surprise at first, melts into him as Dean gets comfortable, working his arm from beneath Dean to wrap around his shoulder to stroke a hand through Dean’s hair. The other going around his waist.

 

And logically, Dean knows that this isn’t him. Knows that he wouldn’t be this openly affectionate or relaxed if he hadn’t been riding the high of self-realization from earlier. There’s no way to deny the fact that Dean is usually distant, refusing comfort in an form, so Cas probably knows too. That this little moment of peace can’t possibly last. And this calm and confidence is only temporary, but he might as well take advantage of it before his inevitable melt down.

 

Taking a deep breath, Dean lets himself take comfort in the Alpha. Not Cas forcing their connection for the sake of Dean’s health, not Dean allowing the bare minimum in order to keep his nausea at bay, and not being totally crippled with fear when he finds that he feels content; just like this.

 

Closing his eyes, ignoring his body’s natural reaction to Cas for once, everything feels okay for an instance. He can feel Cas’s heart beat underneath his ear, and the tickle of Cas’s breath as it gently puffs against the top of his head.

 

He doesn’t know how much time has gone by before he feels Cas’s chest deviate from it’s regular rhythmic pattern, catching his attention to let him know Cas is about to speak.

 

“I’m sorry about happened today, Dean,” he speaks quietly, “From what I can understand, you are much better off without your father in your life, but it still can’t have been easy. He is family, after all,” he finishes sadly, tightening his grip around Dean even more, “And you shouldn’t have been put in that position in the first place.”

 

“Family doesn’t treat each other like that, Cas,” he says, keeping his eyes firmly shut, “They are supposed to love you unconditionally, support you when times get rough, and actually fucking _give_ a shit about what happens to you. I never got that, not from my Dad.”

 

He can smell Cas’s anger, being in such close proximity to him, and it’s distracting when he’s trying to sleep. “How many time do I have to tell you we’re fine? And thanks to your big show of Alpha masculinity,” he says, amused when Cas’s chest instantly puffs up, “I doubt we’ll be seeing John anytime soon.”

 

It’s quiet then, and Dean can tell the time for talking is over. All the words left unsaid will be saved for tomorrow. For now, Cas resumes stroking his hair, and Dean basks in the renewal of Cas’s natural(fucking awesome) scent. He ‘s watching the days happening in rewind in his head, seeing it all again like watching a movie. It’s not actually a calming thought, and it definitely won’t help lull him to sleep, but Dean can’t but laugh quietly, thinking about one thing in particular over and over again right before he’s about to fall asleep.

 

“What are you laughing at?” comes a quiet, amused voice in his ear, obviously having felt the vibrations of Dean’s laughs against his chest.

 

“You said Fuck,” he whispers back, laughing again.

 

Cas is silent for a second, but then Dean can feel his answering laugh, tickling against his ear and sending shivers down his spine.

 

“Go to sleep, Dean.”

 

“M’kay,” he manages to mutter, tucking himself in tight to Cas as he gives into sleep.

 

 

 

 

It’s only a few hours later when he’s jolted awake. He can’t quite remember the full details of the vivid dream he’d been having, but the last thing he remembers, the thing that had him sitting bolt upright in a cold sweat; was the sound of a baby crying. And unlike before, where he was afforded a few precious seconds to forget about his predicament, a few seconds to forget the source of his stress, everything was now finally starting to hit him.

 

Slowly, so slowly he knew he was probably being over dramatic, Dean lowers his head in the dark to look down at his stomach. How _the fuck_ had he been so calm about this yesterday?!

 

This was happening. And Dean had _chosen_ this.

 

When push came to shove, literally, his mind had been made up on the spot; and there was no going back now. He didn’t regret that part, but now what? He’d spend most of the month thinking he would be ending this; thinking he would terminate the pregnancy, say good-bye to Cas, and go back to hiding what he was like none of this had ever happened. Now, he was coming to the realization that he had no plans. No fucking clue what to do next now that he’d decided to go through with this.

 

This whole time, he’d barely acknowledged what was happening to him, choosing to pretend it _wasn’t_ actually happening, pretending to ignore the facts right in front of him and give it different names, different names that had no association what so ever with the truth. He’d never actually thought of himself as _pregnant._ FUCK- there was a fucking _human being_ inside him! He’d been referring to it this whole fucking time- if he had to- as an _it;_ not _once_ had he thought of it as an actual baby.

 

God-he’d never thought he would be a carrier, never thought he’d be the one fucking _having_ the baby. All his life John has scorned the existence of male omegas; and was particularly disgusted by their ability to carry children- citing them an abomination, calling them unnatural and perverted. Dean had had it drilled into his head so many times even before he’d presented that by the time he did, he’d dismissed ever being one of _those_ omegas before even checking if it was a possibility. He’d thought if he ever had children, they’d be with his future wife; the _natural_ way. Omegas couldn’t procreate that way, but he’d figure they would be in love, and would figure it out when the time came.

 

 He’d been naive then.

 

Staring down at his little pudge, everything was starting to feel real.

 

It wasn’t helped at all by the now familiar scent of distressed omega filling up the room, so at odds with the peaceful contentment still radiating off the sleeping Alpha.

 

In his freak out, he’d forgotten all about the other man’s presence. How was he not awake and freaking out right now? It felt like the fucking world was ending, and Cas had decided he would just sleep through it all together?

 

Pulling his knees up to his chest, he wraps one arm around them and uses the other to shake urgently at Cas. Maybe he’ll know what to do.

 

“Cas…” he says, still housing that fear of waking someone up he’s had since he was little and needed his father. “Cas,” he repeats just a little louder until he can Cas’s eyes groggily open to regard him.

 

“Dean?” Cas says, voice hoarse with sleep, blue eyes half-lidded and drooping, “What’s wrong?”

 

Shit. He did not think this through. Now he’d have to fucking speak the words out loud. He could feel the panic in chest start to build, his heart beat drumming loudly in his ears. Cas must pick up on the scent, because now his eyes are fully open, and he’s looking at Dean with that fucking _Alpha_ concern again.

 

“Cas-“ he chokes, “I’m pregnant.”

 

The world doesn’t end, nothing explodes, and John doesn’t come running into the room. Nothing happens, when he feels like it should. Something to mirror the way he’s feeling right now. All there is after he finally gets the words out, is silence.

 

Cas, who’d finally woken up fully, goes from confused to fucking _scared._ And Dean thinks _fucking finally_ he is not alone in this momentous freak out. But then Cas opens his mouth.

 

“Dean,” he says slowly, clearly over enunciating, “Are you absolutely positive you did not hit your head last night? You have been pregnant for a little over three months now.”

 

And it’s the way he said it, the way he’s talking like he’s speaking to someone hard of hearing, that stops Dean’s panic in it’s tracks. Everything goes blank for a second, as he stares incredulously at Cas. His face, so concerned and worried, so fucking _ridiculous_ that Dean can’t help but laugh.

 

Only this dude could make him laugh when all he wanted to do was curl up into a ball and ignore the world.

 

He laughs even harder when Cas’s face morphs into confusion, tilting his head to the side as he sits up, looking at Dean as if he’d lost his damn mind. Maybe he has. But at least he feels a little better, the laughter going a long way to reduce some of the stress that been piling up since he’d woke up.

 

“No Cas,” he pants when he finally catches his breath, “I did not hit my head. I just remembered that I’m totally fucked, is all.”

 

“Dean,” Cas admonishes.

 

“No really, Cas. Totally fucked,” he assures Cas, “And so are you. Cuz’ we are doing this shit.”

 

Cas knows immediately what he’s talking about.

 

“You haven’t changed your mind?” he asks, and Dean can finally see the hope in Cas’s eyes.

 

“This is probably a horrible fucking idea, but nope. I meant what I said last night.”

 

He wants to look away, wants to tuck his head between his knees now that the laughter has completely left his system and the fear is creeping back in, but he suddenly feels himself being hugged within an inch of his life.

 

Some how in his melodramatic thoughts, Cas had managed to get himself out of the blankets to almost fucking tackle Dean down to the bed without him noticing. Dean missed the look on his face, but if had anything similar to Cas’s _scent_ , he can only imagine his smile.

 

Because Cas smells fucking _happy._ It’s overwhelming in it’s headiness, making Dean feel like he’s high on it; a thousand times more potent than his regular Chistmassy smell. He’s never encountered anything like it before, and he can’t help but burry himself in Cas’s shoulder to get as much of it as possible. And it’s fucking contagious as well, as he finds himself smiling despite himself. This is fucking crazy, and here they are, _smiling_ about it!

 

“Thank you,” Cas whispers into Dean’s ear, and Dean can _hear_ the smile in his voice, “Thank you, Dean.”

 

Smiling like fools, Dean just nods back, sure that Cas can feel it, and wraps his arms around Cas’s back.

 

 It’s then that he notices their position.

 

Cas is on top of him. His top half over him, and his bottom half off to the side, but it’s enough. The warm weight of _Cas_ making his body lax, at the same time as sending butterflies fluttering through out his stomach.

 

Holy shit- he’d _kissed_ him last night.

 

In the midst of everything, he’d completely forgotten; stored it away to over analyze like a teenaged girl with her first crush. But now he wasn’t sure _what_ to do. He’d been riding the high of false confidence last night, and that had obviously dried out.

 

Correctly guessing the source of his sudden tension, Cas pulls back from their embrace enough to look down at Dean’s face. Keeping their faces way closer than they would have normally. Before last night, that is.

 

“Have you changed your mind about anything else that happened last night, Dean?” Cas asks him softly, breath ghosting over Dean’s face.

 

As much as he wants to lie, wants to pretend to be offended, wants to remind Cas that he _isn’t gay_ ; he can’t. Cas deserves better than that. Closing his eyes, he finally whispers, “No.”

 

He doesn’t know what he was expecting- a kiss, another hug, gay declarations of affections- but none of that comes.

 

Cas’s scent intensifies; basically broadcasting _Over the moon- Alpha Contentment_ , and when Dean opens his eyes, the smile on Cas’s face is one he’ll never forget. It transforms his face, his eyes, his little dimples; almost making him look angelic in the dim morning light.

 

Dean can’t help but smile a little at Cas’s genuine elation, but the worry keeps him from letting loose completely. Every life choice he’d promised himself he’d never make, was now coming true.

 

 He honestly had no clue who he was anymore, but he figures now was as good a time as any to figure it out.

 

Hesitating slightly, still so fucking unsure of himself, he raises his arm slowly to touch the side of Cas’s face with his fingers; a barely there touch that Cas leans into. It’s a far cry from the intimacy they shared last night, but it’s a start.

 

“We can do this, Dean,” Cas tells him softly, “All of it. We’ll take it slow, one day at a time.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“We can do it,” he says again, this time more seriously, “But we cannot continue like we have in the past, Dean. You can’t. You know what I’m talking about. It has to change Dean.”

 

Closing his eyes again, Dean whispers, “I know.”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know some of you thought it would all be butterflies and rainbows after last chapter, but that's not the case. Dean has a lot of deep seated issues that he'll need to work through, so making it all go away with a blink of an eye is just not realistic. You can look forward to a lot of fluff as well as angst in the near future though! 
> 
> Hope you are enjoying this craziness I have created, and as always, let me know what you think! I may not respond to every comment, but I do read them all!


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, thank you for all the comments and kudos, and mistakes are my own! Hope you enjoy!

 

 

 

Watching his scent blockers being flushed down the toilet was probably one of the hardest things he’s had to do. Those were the last representations of the life he used to live, and the person everyone thought they knew.

 

But he had agreed when Cas had said things needs to change. There would be no more hiding. Especially after Cas’s warning.

 

They had finally gotten themselves out of bed, neither of them had to work today, so the plan was to eat and then they were going to take Cas’s Lord of the Rings virginity. Cas was leading the way into Dean’s little kitchen, looking like he was on a mission, when the contents of Dean’s cupboards flashed through his mind. There was a box of pop tarts, a box of lucky charms, and four bottles of empty liquor he’d stashed having told himself he’d throw them away later. The fridge wasn’t much better off. To say Cas was unimpressed was an understatement.

 

“Dean, I do not mean to frighten you,” he says, “But it is important that you are extremely cautious going forward into this pregnancy. Male Omegas often have more difficult pregnancies than females do, and you have already shown early signs that this will more than likely be the case for you. You’re going to have to take better care of yourself, Dean,” Cas almost begs, “Of course I’ll do my best to aid you, but this is something you need to do for yourself as well. No more doing _anything_ that could put the pup or yourself at risk. You’re no longer only making decisions that will impact you, you’re making decisions now that will impact _both_ of you.”

 

Fuck not _frightening_ him. He was scared shitless. So far, he’d drank a shitload of alcohol at the beginning, been on scent blockers the entire time, and been punched in the face. And he was only three months in.

 

_Fuck,_ he thought, at this point, the kid would need a fucking miracle to make it nine months with him. He was already fucking this up, and the pup wasn’t even born yet. He was still struggling to grasp the fact there was a pup inside him to begin with, never mind thinking about the fucking future.

 

Scenting Dean’s worry, Cas had laid a hand on his shoulder from across the kitchen counter.

 

“It’s okay, Dean. You can do this,” he reminded him gently.

 

“How the fuck am I supposed to do that, Cas? I’ve already done things I shouldn’t have. How do I even know if its still alive?” he asks, voice shaking, finally voicing the fear that had been plaguing him since even before he’d made up his mind. He’d known he had fucked up the moment Cas had told him that fucking test was positive.

 

“The baby will be fine, Dean,” Cas had assured him, “Although we should get you a check up regardless. The sooner the better, just to be completely positive that everything is going as it should as well as give the two of us peace of mind.”

 

“But how do you know for sure though, that its-not- you know?” he asks, desperate to believe Cas’s words, but at the same time remaining unconvinced. Though Cas’s smile does put him at ease some.

 

“Your scent, Dean,“ he had said simply, “You must have noticed it changing. Pregnant Omegas give off a very distinct scent; growing more and more potent as the development of the pup progresses. It is identifiable to anyone once untainted, but due to our predicament…I’ve been able to scent the pregnancy since the day you walked into my office- though I didn’t recognize it at the time. That is how I know. Your normal, mouth-watering scent, is now near irresistible; causing an equal amount of disrupt in my own scent in reaction. My instincts are somehow hardwired to your own. I imagine that in a very short amount of time, both our scents will have evolved. Even if you were to continue attempting to conceal your scent, which I _strongly_ recommend that you do not, they would not be successful for very much longer.”

 

So along with being potentially hazardous to their health, it would be completely fucking useless to try and keep hiding with the blockers.

 

Still, it was fucking hard to let go of something he’d desperately clung to for _years_. He’d been pretending he was something he wasn’t for so long he didn’t know how to be anything different. How to be _that._ The thing he’s feared being this entire time. And not only was he going through this for the first time, everyone around him would be as well. Come Monday, he’d have to confront Bobby. And at some time he’d have to see the guys, his customers, his neighbors, acquaintances at the store and what not; there were so many people who believed the façade, and they would all _know._

 

His head started to pound and his breath came fast as he watched all the effort he’d put into the last twelve years literally get flushed down the toilet.

 

Cas, who had been silently watching him from the door way, stepped forward to put a hand on his lower back, he thought it was just to be comforting, but then he realized Cas was pulling him.

 

“You’re stressing yourself out, Dean. You need to calm down,” he says quietly as he wraps his arm completely around Dean’s waist now.

 

Dean doesn’t want to lean into Cas, doesn’t want to let himself be coddled, but his head is seriously starting to hurt and Cas’s scent is like a balm; soothing the tightness away just enough to take the edge off. Grudgingly he lets himself get pulled into the living room, and then the couch. Before they can get the whole seating arrangement figured out, because what the hell where they? His phone starts ringing.

 

Pulling it out and grimacing when he sees his brother’s name, he immediately knows what this is about. Sam only called outside their usual weekly call if he had something important to say, and Dean guessed his father hadn’t gone as quietly as they had hoped. Shocker.

 

Pressing accept, he says, “Hey Sammy, what’s up?” As Cas comes to sit next to him.

 

“What’s up? Seriously Dean?” and he can just imagine the epic bitch face his brother is sporting at the tone, “I just got off the phone with Dad, and that’s all you have to say?”

 

“How bout how are you?”

 

“This isn’t funny, Dean! What the hell happened? Dad said something about another Alpha?” his little brother leaves off uncertainly.

 

Of course John would tell Sam about Cas. Of course this would be the first thing Sam asks about instead of ‘are you okay.’ Unlike Dean, Sam was spoiled growing up. After Dean had disappointed John with his gender presentation, Sam, who had always butted heads with the man, became the golden child. All John’s hopes and dreams were then pinned on Sam; and only more so after he’d popped his knot. And Dean was glad, happy that Sam’s childhood and adolescence got to be so much better than his, he deserved it. He did everything he could to make Sam’s life easier, that instinct to nurture only making itself known when it came to his little brother, but growing up the way he did, Sam would never understand what he’s going through now.

 

“Aren’t you going to ask what Dad was doing here in the first place?” he settles on asking. If he was going to keep his anger in check, it was probably the smartest move.

 

“He said he went to apologize? He wouldn’t say why, but that’s another thing you haven’t told me about! I didn’t even realize the two of you had issues, and I have to hear about it from _Dad?_ What the hell Dean?”

 

“You have your own problems to worry about, Sam,” Dean sighs, “I didn’t see the point in bitching about my own.”

 

He can hear a scoff at the other end, “It’s not just your own anymore, Dean. Dad said he’s pretty messed up. Said that other Alpha attacked him. Care to explain? Because I don’t get it.”

 

His head ache just went up a notch in intensity as he feels the anger pump it’s way through his system.

 

“Attacked _him?”_ he asks incredulously, “Dude, the guy comes all the way over here, supposedly to fucking _apologize,_ but as soon as I opened the damn door he clocked me in the face. Probably would have done worse too if Cas hadn’t been here- he had every right to kick his ass.” he says, looking at the worried Alpha in question. Cas is hanging on his every word, looking increasing unnerved by Dean’s agitation.

 

“Who’s Cas?!” Sam is shouting at this point, “I’ve _never_ heard of this guy before, and suddenly you have this random Alpha at your place, defending your honor or something? I thought you swore off being like _every_ other Omega!”

 

Dean’s heart drops, and suddenly he’s ice cold. Sam must have known he’d crossed a line, because he’s gone silent on the other end. He knew Sam didn’t mean it, but it hurt just the same. He had been right though, Sam just wouldn’t get it. There was no point in trying to explain.

 

“Dean…” he hears Sam start apologetically.

 

But he doesn’t want to hear it. Pulling the phone away with shaking hands, he hangs up on him; turning to stare numbly at Cas who looks torn between anger and concern. He’s sure Sam was loud enough to be heard over the little speaker, and Cas had been front and fucking center to his out of control emotions. At least now he didn’t have to explain.

 

When Cas reaches out a hand, intending to place it on Dean’s knee, Dean automatically flinches away. To save face, and to avoid looking at the hurt he’s sure is now showing on Cas’s face, he stands up, muttering something about getting the movie set up. He had been pretty excited for Cas to watch the Lord of the Rings, thinking him and Cas could just have a mellow day and watch some great movies, but now he just wanted to take a few Excedrin and call it a day.

 

Not only could he not take anything for his head ache-figuring drugs counted as putting them _at risk_ \- he’d promised Cas they would watch them.

 

Turning off his mind to try and lessen the pain, in his head and his fucking stupid heart, Dean puts the DVD in, finds the controller, and firmly sequesters himself on the far corner of the couch. He can feel Cas staring at him, but as soon as Dean presses play, he closes his eyes and brings two of his fingers on both hands up to massage at his temples. He knew it was a stress headache, but being able to identify it didn’t make it any less painful.

 

They are twenty minutes in, and it hasn’t gotten any better. His mind keeps running over his conversation with Sam. Before, he’d been contemplating telling Sam everything the next time they spoke; thinking maybe Sam could lend some support, thinking Sam might be the one person besides Cas to have his back. That wouldn’t be happening now. If he automatically thought he’d changed his ways for a random Alpha, rolled over and let someone make them their damsel in distress, then he was pretty sure his little brother would judge the hell out of him if he knew the truth; and he didn’t need that. Obviously Sam didn’t think much of him. Thinking about Sam’s reaction, he could only imagine the reaction he would get from someone who wasn’t his family. He was going to get laughed at, and no one would ever take him seriously again.

 

Closing his eyes wasn’t working, he can still see the faces of ridicule waiting for him as soon as he steps out of his apartment come Monday, and he winces as sharp pain zings through his head again.

 

“Dean?” comes a quiet voice. He’d almost forgot Cas was there, he’d been so quiet.

 

“What?” he snaps, irritated at Cas for no fucking reason.

 

“Are you alright?”

 

“Do I look alright, Cas?” he sighs in exasperation, “Do I smell alright? Is there anything about my life that is _alright?_ ”

 

“I understand that you are upset right now, but I scent more than that on you. I can sense your pain,” he murmurs, concern evident in his voice, “What’s wrong Dean?”

 

He doesn’t want to talk. He wishes he couldn’t think. It’s just too damn loud in his brain right now, but that’s not Castiel’s fault. There was no point on taking out his frustrations on the only fucking person who has his back.

 

Renewing his effort on the massage he’s attempting to give himself, he finally just says, “I’m fine. Just a headache. Nothing you can do about it.”

 

“On the contrary. I think I might be more well suited to give a more satisfactory massage, seeing as I work with the human body and it’s pressure points on a daily basis.”

 

And Dean can’t see Cas, keeping his eyes firmly closed, but he’s almost positive Cas is smirking at him. That little lip quirk he uses when he’s trying to make Dean laugh, or god forbid, crack a joke with all that dry humor he has going on.

 

“Oh really,” he says as he switches to rub the bridge of his nose, “So Mr. Big Bad Alpha thinks he can do a better job? I don’t think so.”

 

“At least let me try, Dean. If I am not helping then you can continue as if I had never said anything.”

 

“What are you going to do?” he asks suspiciously.

 

“I told you, I’m going to give you a massage. Our close proximity should allow you to scent me as well.”

 

He realizes he kinda gave Cas the green light earlier, but he still blushes at the thought of something so intimate. They haven’t _actually_ scented each other, not for real anyway, but what they were doing was close enough to make him really fucking uncomfortable. Scenting was supposed to be between mates, and as much as his body believed otherwise, they were definitely not mated.

 

“Better not be trying to bust a move, pal,” Dean grumbles as he opens his eyes and scoots himself grudgingly towards Cas.

 

“Don’t worry, Dean,” Cas soothes, “I can stop whenever you want. Come here.” He says, patting the spot right next to him. Cas is turned sideways to face him with his legs still facing the front. Movie is apparently forgotten.

 

When he is where Cas wants him, he has Dean turn around, pulling his legs to his chest facing away from him. He closes his eyes before Cas can tell him to, catching Cas’s scent and trying to hold on to it as he tenses, waiting for the other man’s touch.

 

Warm fingers gently ghost over his shoulders before they press more firmly, beginning to kneed the muscles in his shoulders before moving up to his neck. He’s still nervous, still tense, until Cas finds a knot and focuses on it. It hurts, but it hurts _so good_ , and he finally takes a deep breath and lets it go in the form of an almost moan. Relaxing back a little against Cas, he let’s the man do whatever the fuck he wants. When Cas finally works his fingers into Dean’s hair, massaging the base of his skull, Dean has to admit that Cas was fucking right. He _was_ better. Much, much better.

 

He doesn’t know how much time passes, but when Cas whispers, “It’s okay, Dean, you can lie back,” he doesn’t argue. Laying back so that his head and the tops of his shoulders are cradled in Cas’s lap, Cas doesn’t stop, doesn’t give any indication that this is a big deal. Moving his fingers to Dean’s temples while his thumbs rub just underneath his ears, Cas is rubbing away every ounce of tension- turning him into putty; into something boneless and loose and unrecognizable. He’s never been this relaxed in his entire life.

 

 With the feeling of Cas’s hands working their magic, the sounds of Gandalf talking to Frodo in the Mines of Moria, and that scent surrounding his senses, he doesn’t even realize he’s drifting off until it’s too late; all his stress forgotten as he burrows himself into Cas’s warmth without another thought.

 

When he comes to, it’s to the feeling of fingers moving gently through his hair. No longer a massage, just Cas petting him softly in the silence of the living room. He doesn’t know how long he’d been out, but it was long enough for the movie to be over. Groggily, he opens his eyes to look above him, surprised when he meets Cas’s, who had obviously been watching him sleep. He’s too comfortable to tell the guy off for being creepy, so he turns his head a little into Cas so he doesn’t have to see him; and Cas continues the movement of his hands.

 

“Hello, Dean,” Cas says softly. “The movie has ended, and you should eat soon. It wouldn’t hurt to ice your eye either.”

 

“I’m good,” he mumbles back, closing his eyes again as he not so subtly inhales whatever part of Cas he’s nuzzled into.

 

“I’m sure you are,” Cas chuckles, “I can tell you’re obviously still conflicted on the question of who gives a better massage. Should I stop then?”

 

“Shut up,” he grumbles back, to Cas’s answering laugh. Fucking smart ass Alphas, think they’re _so_ funny. But at the same time, he doesn’t want Cas to stop.

 

His stomach decides to have a say though as it growls loud enough for both of them to hear. Groaning, Dean rolls to his feet and stumbles his way to the kitchen.

 

Grabbing an a bag full of ice and two packages of pop tarts and two waters from the fridge, he shivers at the cold temperature in his apartment and from the ice before making a bee-line back for the couch. Changing the movie quickly, he only hesitates a second before flopping back down, laying his head back into Cas’s lap before he hands Cas his pop tarts and water and places the ice over his eye as much as he’s able to. It looks much worse than it is, so he’s not really worried about it. If Cas is surprised, he does a good job covering it up, as he stares critically down at the pop tarts in his hand.

 

“We are going shopping this week, Dean,” he says finally before opening it up and pulling one out. One hand goes back to idly stroking Dean’s hair as he eats, and Dean turns on his side to watch the movie as he eats his own. Cas is so warm and comfortable that he stays where he is for the rest of the movie.

 

Overall, the day hadn’t been a complete bust.

 

Neither is the next day, but that’s because they spend it in much the same way except without the sleepover. When Cas comes over in the morning, it’s like nothing has changed. Dean was nervous, thinking Cas would want more from him then he was ready to give, but when he opens the door for Cas Sunday morning, Cas just smiles at him the way he always does and deposits the food he always brings. They don’t kiss again and Cas doesn’t bring it up. But after they eat and put on the third movie in the trilogy, Dean does lay his head back in Cas’s lap again. He can’t resist, and he can tell it makes Cas happy by the way his scent increases to make Dean feel like he’s punch drunk off it.

 

They don’t talk about Sam. Cas tries to bring it up once, but after Dean begged him to drop it, he didn’t try again. Dean has bigger problems to worry about right now, and he needs to deal with those first. The phone call was just as much his fault as it was Sam’s. As soon as Sam had edged into uncomfortable territory, he should have straightened things out instead of egg him on. Yes, Sam had crossed a line, and it would be a while before Dean would willingly pick up the phone for a while, he would get over his hurt feelings eventually. Right now, it wasn’t a priority.

 

Tomorrow is the day. By then, the scent blockers will have had three days to leave his system. There’s no going back, and there is no avoiding this. He feels naked in his own skin, and as Cas is leaving for the night, he knows Cas can sense his unease.

 

“Do you want me to go with you?” he asks quietly, his eyes scrunched again in concern.

 

 God Cas was such a worrier, he thought affectionately, he was constantly worried about every single thing that could possibly upset Dean. It was kind of annoying… And adorable.

 

“No dude. It’ll be fine. You have work, and I don’t need you to hold my hand while _I_ go to work,” he assures Cas, “But uhh…thanks.”

 

Cas just stares at him a second, trying to see if Dean is lying to him, before he relaxes. And then he’s leaning in- what the fuck? Cas’s face is getting closer to his face! Is Cas about to fucking-

 

Kiss him on the cheek.

 

Blinking in surprise as Cas pulls back to smile at him, eyes sparkling in mischief, he realizes Cas did that on purpose! The fucker played him, and he doesn’t know if he’s disappointed or relieved about it. He thought he wasn’t ready for that, but some part of his mind had been insisting that he was wrong when Cas had gotten closer. What the fuuuuuck…

 

Watching as Cas spins around to leave, his mouth hangs open as Cas turns to look over his shoulder and fucking _winks._ “Goodnight, Dean,” he calls before smirking and heading for the stairs.

 

And no matter what he’d been telling himself for god knows how many years, he definitely feels some interest going on down south. When the hell did his _dick_ start liking Cas too?! That was a new development. Closing his mouth and blinking rapidly to clear away his sudden(and surprising) lust, he slams the door and heads straight for the shower. Son of a _bitch._

 

 

 

 

When Monday comes bright and fucking early, there is a sense of doom hanging over his head.

 

Instead of letting it make him insecure or small the way he knows it’s trying to, he uses those feelings to make himself stronger. He can fucking do this, Dean thinks to himself with determination. Yeah he smells to high heaven, the blockers having finally faded completely, but he wasn’t going to let that hold him back anymore. He was done with feeling like shit all the time, as well as taking shit. It’s not like he was comfortable with what he was now, but he _was_ done pretending that he was something he’s not. It was time for change, and today was the day. Do or die. Sink or swim.

 

After he showers, shaves, dresses in a baggy hoodie once more and eats, he’s out the door, only pausing to look down at his phone that shows a text from Cas saying, “Let me know how it goes. Call if you need me.” Besides the text, which made him smile a tiny bit, he shuts down his emotions. Dean is on autopilot. He’s not thinking as he drives to work, and he’s not thinking as he parks his car, walks towards garage, and straight through the doors.

 

Benny, who happened to be working the counter again, turns at the noise. The smile on his face and the greeting about to pass through his lips dies before it has time to be completed as Dean continues on into the room. He can tell that Benny has caught his scent, but wonders if the Alpha can scent the other thing as well.

 

 And so it begins.

 

“Brother, is that- that you?” the bear of a man stutters, gawking.

 

But he doesn’t answer. Benny is not his objective now. Not after what happened with John. No, ignoring Benny for the moment, he heads straight for Bobby’s office. This talk was long over due. Bobby was a Beta so he didn’t have as good a nose as Alphas did, but there would be no mistaking what he was anymore.

 

He doesn’t bother knocking when he gets there, just walks in on the old man shuffling papers around on his desk.

 

“What the hell happened to you b-“ Bobby grumbles, staring at his black eye before he stops. And visibly inhales. “Dean?” he whispers in confusion, eyes widening beneath his baseball cap. “I thought there was somethin’ fishy about that gal of yours…So you been lyin this whole time I’ve known you?”

 

He wants to be angry, wants to yell and scream and blame Bobby for what happened with his father, but now that he’s here, he can’t find it within himself to do it. When it really comes down to it, this whole situation was his own fault. He let it get to this point.

 

Taking a seat in front of Bobby’s desk, he sighs out, “Yepp,” before scrubbing a tired hand down over his face. Bobby is still standing, staring down at him in muted shock.

 

“An you didn’t think to tell me?” Bobby bursts out incredulously, “That’s pretty friggin’ important, Dean- what were you thinking boy?!”

 

“What was _I_ thinking?” Dean throws back, “Bobby, what were _you_ thinking telling my dad shit about me?! You know what a hard ass he is when it comes to me, why would you want to make it worse?”

 

“I thought you were _sick,_ Dean! What was I supposed to do, sit back and let you rot?” Bobby yells, squinting at Dean in annoyance. “I thought someone oughtta make sure you weren’t dyin’, and it’s not like you come by to _chat_ with me!”

 

“So you go and call my Dad? Bobby, come on, I’m a fucking adult!”

 

“Watch your tone with me, boy,” he warns icily, “I find out you’re an _Omega_ after fifteen years. You been runnin’ around this whole time pretending to be a Beta, hiding from I don’t know what, instead of owning up to it like a man. What about that screams ‘adult’ to you?”

 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Dean spits, “Who do you think made me like this Bobby?! You think I liked taking suppressants and scent blockers every fucking day? Do you think I like living in fucking fear all the goddamn time over the way I was _born_? Or waiting for a fucking heat to come? Or how about looking into the mirror every fucking day and _knowing_ that you’re the world’s biggest disappointment? Sound fun to you? Cuz’ I can keep going.”

 

By the end of his rant, he’s up and pacing, panting as he all his pain is rehashed.

 

“Who told you were a disappointment boy?” comes Bobby voice, now surprisingly soft in the tense atmosphere.

 

Chuckling humorlessly, he turns to face Bobby again. “The same person who cut ties with me a few months ago. The same person who came to my door Friday night and knocked me on my ass without saying a word. The same person you’ve been telling to check up on me.”

 

By the way Bobby’s face crumbles, he didn’t know anything about John’s recent trip to Kansas. Dean doesn’t know why, but it makes him feel a little bit better.

 

“Your Daddy did this to you?” Bobby whispers, horrified. Dean just nods, finally taking a seat.

 

“Why?” And he sounds so genuinely stupefied, Dean figures he should probably ease up on him. Bobby was a Beta, and after working with his Father for years, he’d earned the Alpha’s respect. He didn’t understand that that was John’s good side.

 

“Come on, Bobby,” he sighs, “You must’ve noticed the way he treated me. Ever since I presented.”

 

“You’re sayin’ he _hit_ you because you’re an _Omega?_ That don’t make a lick of sense, boy,” Bobby says he sits down, looking over Dean’s bruise in confusion. “ _That’s_ why he’s been so stubborn when it comes to you?”

 

“It’s a little more complicated than that, but basically, yeah.”

 

“All this time I thought…” Bobby says, looking down at his hands, “Well, I don’t know what I thought, but I didn’t think _this._ I gotta say Dean, as much as I respect your father, John is a right asshole. And he’s _wrong_ for saying the things he said, and doing what he did.”

 

When Dean looks up, totally fucking shocked, Bobby is smiling at him.

 

“For all the time I’ve known you, Omega or not, you been something special, kid,” Bobby says quietly, and Dean can tell he’s being completely serious. “The way you took care of your little brother growing up. How you’ve always been so eager to please…I see the way you bust your ass in anything you do, and I can see how much of yourself you put into it. You’re loyal to a fault, you treat everyone with respect, and you are the _strongest_ young man I’ve had the good fortune to meet. Frankly, I’m lucky to have you working for me…”

 

He trails off, pausing to make sure he catches Dean’s eye, “And I don’t care what you Daddy says, you deserve better than the way he’s treated you. Ain’t nobody deserve that, least of all you.”

 

Dean is speechless at this point, looking at Bobby in disbelief. There are no words for the sudden emotion that’s clogging his throat, and Bobby just keeps _staring_ at him with that fucking soft look on his face. He’s never seen the old man with anything but a scowl on his face for more than five minutes, but he must be going for a record right now.

 

“So don’t think this changes anything, ya hear? You’re still an Idjit, and you’re still the same person. Just without the bullshit, agreed?” At Dean’s nod he continues, “But can I ask you one thing?”

 

“Anything,” Dean croaks, still struggling to gain back his composure.

 

“Were you really sick? You looked pretty worse for wear the past couple of months, and the boys and I were worried you would keel over.”

 

Holy shit, if he thought he was struggling for words a second ago, it was nothing compared to the feeling _now._ Fucking moment of truth. He could lie and wait until he was ready or he gave himself away, but that didn’t feel right after the conversation they just had. And Bobby deserved the truth for once.

 

“I was sick,” he says slowly, uttering the words as quietly as he can, just loud enough for Bobby to hear, “But it’s because…Uhhh…It’s because I’m pregnant.”

 

This is the first time he’s said the words out loud to anyone besides Cas, and he can’t help breathing a sigh of relief. Someone knows. Someone know as the world hasn’t ended.

 

But from the way Bobby is up out of his chair, red face steadily fading to purple, he might be mistaken. There is no mistaking the look on his face now, and the record for not scowling is officially broken. Bobby is _mad._

“The hell, Dean?” the old man shouts, and Dean thinks he’s yelling at him for a second before, “John hit you like this?! The next time I see him, I swear to god I’m gonna rip him a new one- damn the fucking consequences!”

 

Bobby isn’t mad at him. He’s mad _for_ him.

 

“Bobby!” he says, standing up to put a hand on his shoulder, “Look at me, I’m fine. It’s fine,” he tries to soothe him, but Bobby doesn’t want to be soothed.

 

“It’s not fine Dean. It’s not!” he says angrily, “He’s a fucking coward-“ he pauses, anger morphing to something else. “Hell, Dean… this. This is all my fault, ain’t it?” Bobby stutters- and are those fucking tears in his eyes? Dean feels like he has friggin whiplash from the last half hour.

 

“No, No Bobby, this isn-”

 

“God, son, I’m so…I’m _so_ sorry,” Bobby says, before stepping to Dean and hugging him tight. And Bobby is _not_ an affectionate man, so Dean just stands there, arms hanging awkwardly, too shocked to reciprocate it.

 

“This isn’t your fault Bobby,” Dean says softly, finally gathering his wits enough to pat him on the back cautiously. “I don’t blame you. I don’t blame anybody, not even John.”

 

Bobby pulls away to look at him like he’s crazy, and he can’t help but laugh a little. “I’m serious, Bobby. Shit happens. But I gotta move on now, you know?”

 

“Yeah,” Bobby says quickly, hastily wiping away the evidence of a tear or two, “Yeah, I do know. Good for you, boy. I’m proud of you.”

 

By the way his heart reacts to the words, it might be the only time he’s ever heard those words. He’s not positive, but he’s pretty sure. He woulda remembered if his father had told him that, and he woulda remembered the warm heat that seemed to settle in his chest.

 

“Thanks Bobby,” he says softly.

 

Taking a deep breath he takes Dean by the shoulders, and starts to lead him out the door, apparently done with their moment.

 

“Alright, alright,” he says, sounding much more like himself, “Lets get outta here before we _both_ develop lady parts,” he snickers.

 

“Bobby!”

 

“Too soon?”

 

“Fuck you, dude,” he says, but he can’t help but smile a little. That had gone a _lot_ better than he thought it would, and he honestly couldn’t wait to tell Cas.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't be mad at Sam- it was miscommunication, and will not be the end of Sam! And I hope you guys like Bobby more now that things were cleared up- now onto the development of Dean and Cas's relationship!
> 
> Btw- I was super bored, and decided to add a picture I drew to the first chapter... Don't judge me.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey peeps. So real life is starting next week- be prepared for slower updates unfortunately! Love y'all- hope you enjoy!

 

 

 

This is his second shower of the day, and he’s not fucking happy about it.

 

The issue with his backdoor is getting out of control, and it only seems to be getting worse. He wakes up soaking wet pretty much every fucking day, but now just the _thought_ of a certain someone, or anything remotely sexy to be honest, has him hot and bothered like nothing else- forcing him to shower much more than he usually does as he refuses to relieve himself on principle alone. He can’t do it. Maybe. Probably can’t.

 

 So here he is, showering before Cas comes to pick him up to go grocery shopping, trying desperately to avoid thinking about anything to do with the Alpha. He hasn’t even seen him for two days, but his mind keeps trying to recreate Cas’s scent, tricking him into believing he can still smell him even while he’s completely naked, having nothing on him that would have captured it’s essence.

 

Still, it makes him feel hot all over, at the same time as making him shiver at the weird feeling of slick continuing to come out of him- _fuck_ \- he wasn’t supposed to be thinking about it. What is _wrong_ with him?

 

Shaking his head in frustration and grabbing the soap _again_ , he forgoes the wash cloth completely, lathers up his hand and reaches behind himself quickly to scrub between his cheeks, gritting his teeth at the accidental pleasure the touch causes. It shouldn’t feel good dammit! It never had before, and he wishes it didn’t now. It just made him feel like even more of a freak, even more uncomfortable in his own skin.

 

Scowling again, he tries to think about something that won’t make him want to punch something.

 

And as annoying as his little butt situation went, it actually wasn’t that hard. The last couple of days had been surprisingly…not awful. Smiling automatically while he pours shampoo into his palm, he thinks about walking out of Bobby’s office on Monday, Bobby’s arm slung around his shoulders, feeling like a huge weight had been lifted from his chest from their talk. That was until they left Bobby’s office. In all the stress and high emotions, he’d completely forgotten about the guys. As soon as he saw them both, staring at him with open mouths, both he and Bobby froze in their tracks, and a short lapse of silence fell over them.

 

For a second, words left him. It was a good thing Bobby didn’t have that problem.

 

“What the hell are you doing here, boy?” He asks in confusion, looking at Ash. “Ain’t it your day off today?”

 

Ash’s eyes go wide, before not so subtly looking over at Benny, giving him away without having to say anything.

 

“Dude,” Dean groans, glaring at Benny, “You _called_ Ash? Jesus Christ-are we in high school?’

 

Benny at least has the decency to look embarrassed, looking down at the ground as his neck flushes red, and that’s it. He can’t help it. Shaking his head and scrunching his nose, he starts laughing, the ridiculousness finally getting to him.

 

They all stare at him cautiously, trying to decipher if he’s actually pissed or not, but when he chokes out, “This is like a _really_ bad soap opera,” Benny snorts loudly, making Dean laugh even louder, and causes the others to join in as well. Four fucking grown ass men, standing around laughing over what he had originally thought to be the end of the world. Looking back at that memory, it was priceless.

 

Ever since then, it _has_ been different in the way that it _hasn’t_. He had thought his secret would cause a rift between him and his coworkers, but after they had all caught their breaths, Dean continuing to tease Benny about how big of a gossip he was, he’d finally told them the truth. Not that they couldn’t scent him or anything, that was pretty obvious, but it was better to just say it to their faces instead of just letting it go unacknowledged until they couldn’t anymore. This way, it was on his terms.

 

And they hadn’t judged him, or looked at him in disgust. Ash’s mouth had still hung open wide the entire time in shock, but that was to be expected after discovering the truth about someone after years of working along side them. And both him and Benny had the same reaction after he’d finally gotten around to choking out his explanation for being sick, and probably being sick again in the future. He had wished in that moment, despite everything, that he could have taken a picture of their faces- talk about priceless- he thinks to himself, laughing quietly to himself, the sound echoing off the tiled walls.

 

Benny had moved towards him then, eyes wide, and weirdly filled with some kind of unreadable emotion, before placing his huge hand on Dean’s shoulder.

 

“That’s great news, chief,” Benny said roughly, “Can’t say I saw this one coming, but…I’m real happy for you, Dean. Real happy, brother.” He says, smile growing until it touches his eyes, and he’s pulling Dean into an unexpected embrace that has Dean swallowing quickly, trying to dislodge the lump he has in his throat all of a sudden.

 

He feels Benny thump him lightly on the back twice, before there’s a very skinny body behind him, joining in. Placing his chin on Dean’s shoulder, and attempting to bring Benny in closer with his arms, Ash makes it a fucking group hug, whispering in Dean’s ear, “I’m going to give your kid the fucking _coolest_ mullet.”

 

“Alright, alright you knuckleheads,” Bobby’s gruff voice comes from behind them, and he can tell by his tone that the old man isn’t as unaffected as he tries to sound, “Just cuz’ the boy is an Omega don’t mean he wants to be hugged to death. Now that we got this little touchy-feely moment over with, there’s work that needs doin. Dean, Benny, get to it. Ash- get lost.”

 

Then everything was back to normal. Since then, they hadn’t treated Dean differently, hadn’t even teased him about, hadn’t brought it up- which Dean was eternally grateful for. He was still reeling himself, and didn’t know if he would ever be comfortable talking about it with them. But knowing that they still liked him and wanted to work with him was a huge relief, and he like knowing that there was more than one person in the world who had his back.

 

As soon as he had finished work, he had been so excited, he’d actually called Cas instead of their usual text, forgetting that he was probably still working.

 

He was just starting to doubt himself when Cas had picked up on the second ring.

 

“Are you okay? How did it go?”

 

It seems he wasn’t the only one who had been stressed about what would happen that day.

 

“It went pretty freak’in well actually. All the guys were cool about it. Even got a group hug,” he snickers.

 

He can hear the sigh of relief from the other line, and it makes his heart flutter a little. “That’s so good to hear, Dean. I’m glad you are working with good men, and hopefully, good friends.”

 

“Yeah, they’re great,” he says, smiling into the phone. “So you heading over, or what?”

 

“I’m actually at work right now,” Cas huffs, “And they’re having me stay late tonight  as well as tomorrow,” he says, sounding seriously annoyed.

 

“Oh,” is all he says, surprised by how disappointed he is. It isn’t a big deal, he knows Cas has a life outside of him, doesn’t need to see him every fucking day for sure, but… he’s still disappointed regardless.

 

“I’m sorry, Dean,” Cas apologized morosely, “I wish I could leave right now. But I will see you as soon as I can. And we can go grocery shopping,” he says sternly, “Fruits and vegetables, and protein, Dean Winchester. We will get you all stocked up, and your pop tarts will be nothing but a sugar induced nightmare.”

 

He had agreed, albeit grudgingly, seeing nothing wrong with the way he stocked his cabinets, and now here he was. Fucking wet and frustrated, seriously contemplating if he had enough time to jerk off before Cas got here. If he saw Cas right now, all wired up and tense, Cas would surely know that something was up, and that was _not_ something he wanted to explain _._

 

He’d hit an all time low- but at this point, there really was no going back. He was so hard it hurt, and turning the water to cold hadn’t helped in the slightest. He had finally ran out of options.

 

Slowly, squeezing his eyes shut to block out any unwanted fantasies, he drags his hand down his body to gather some left over suds before loosely gripping his dick.

Just the gentle pressure feels good. Tightening his hand, and bringing the other one up to brace himself against the cold shower wall, he starts to stroke himself firmly- up and down, just trying to get it over with.

 

Focusing on the sensation instead of letting his mind wonder, he moves his thumb over the head, rubbing his slit like he normally would do for a quick release. He’s starting to pant now, but it’s more from exertion than pleasure. It feels _good_ but it doesn’t feel great. Doesn’t feel like enough. Doesn’t feel like he’s working for something, or towards something better, and it takes much longer for him to get to the damn finish.

 

He needs something- something to push him over the edge.

 

And that’s when he hears it. The distinct sound of someone knocking on his door.

 

In his mind, he imagines opening the door for who he knows is knocking, and as soon as he pictures those blue eyes, another image flashes through his head.  Those amazingly blue eyes, looking up at him hungrily while sucking his dick at the same that he’s fingering his-

 

Moaning as quiet as he can, he finally comes, panting through it while he rides it out, gripping himself tight and letting his head fall back so that the water pours down his face.

 

For a second, he just stands there breathing hard. Blinking stupidly in a pleasured haze, his heart begins to race as soon as he realizes what just happened. He’d gotten off thinking about Cas-

 

There’s another knock on his door that startles him out of his mini panic and has him scrambling to wash off the evidence of his jerk session as soon as fucking possible. As well as another wash behind, as his ass had _really_ tried to gain his attention the entire time he’d been focusing on his dick. Like _that_ would be happening. Well his ass could suck it!

 

…Poor choice of words, but the sentiment remains.

 

Hurriedly wrapping a towel around his waste, he hightails towards the door without thinking about what he’s actually doing. The poor guy has been waiting a while, he thinks, and Cas shouldn’t have to wait outside for him while he’s getting dressed too.

 

Yeah, he probably should have thought this through. His whole body was flushed red- either from the hot water or from pleasure, and he was panting slightly from both. He was pretty much _letting_ himself get caught red handed, but all he could think about in that second was getting to Cas.

 

Wrenching the door open, he meets Cas’s eyes for a second before watching Cas’s smile freeze on his face as he looks Dean over, taking in the sight of him in nothing but a freak’in towel. Immediately the scent of Cas’s arousal hits him in the face, and has him turning red while taking a cautious step back in the hopes that Cas wouldn’t be able to scent his own. Fuck. He had no kind of control anymore, his body was one track minded apparently, and was already preparing itself for another round- scent all over the place, dick fortunately out for the count while unfortunately his ass just kept betraying him.

 

He tracks Cas’s eyes as they move down to his bare chest, down to the towel, but then back up again as they land and stick on his stomach. His eyes widen, and he makes a strangled noise that he can’t quite cut off in time. And okay, his stomach was a bit more rounded than he had wanted to admit, but it wasn’t _that_ noticeable.

 

“Shit,” Dean curses, automatically pulling the towel up enough to cover his little pudge before turning around and practically running to his bedroom, almost slipping in his hast. He calls over his shoulder, “My bad, man. Come in- just gotta get dressed real quick.”

 

Just gotta get my shit together real quick, he thinks to himself. He didn’t know what the hell that just was, but it was confusing as fuck. Grabbing two pairs of underwear, cuz’ one just wasn’t enough anymore the way he was leaking, a loose pair of jeans, he throws on a dark gray long sleeve and a jacket that’s a little too large for him; figuring that he can get away dressing warmly with the early October weather at the same time as covering his stomach up nicely. Checking himself in the mirror quickly, you couldn’t even tell he’d gained a few pounds. His cheeks were still flushed, but he was hoping Cas would attribute that to the whole accidental nudity thing.

 

Taking a deep, calming breath, he walks back out expecting Cas to still be waiting by the door for some reason. Walking out slowly towards the living room, he spots a dark haired head sitting on the couch, back to him.

 

“Cas? You ready to go?” he says cautiously. Cas must have heard him leave the bedroom, but he hasn’t turned around or given any indication that he means to.

 

“It would seem that I require a minute, Dean,” comes his quiet murmur, a weird hitch to his voice, still not turning around, “We’ll be on our way shortly though.”

 

“Okay?” he says slowly, “Are you alright man?” he asks, rounding the couch, wanting to see why Cas hadn’t tried to make eye contact like he normally would. It was kind of Cas’s thing.

 

 What he has him stopping where is in confusion. Cas had been fine a second ago, but now Cas has his eyes tightly shut, face drawn in concentration, jaw clenched, and hands fisted over his lap. And from the way his chest was moving, Cas was trying his hardest not to inhale.

 

“Cas?” he says, worried now.

 

“I’m fine. Stay where you are,” Cas says firmly, “It’ll pass.”

 

“But what’s wrong? Are you ok?”

 

Cas hesitates again, his head tilting to the side before he highs and slouches backwards on to the couch, abandoning his attempt at not inhaling too deeply. His face remains tense though, and Dean can tell he’s thinking about what he’s about to say. Probably planning on sugar coating it, then, and if he knows Cas, it’s probably for his own “benefit.”

 

“Just tell me,” he says, tempted to come closer, despite Cas’s warning.

 

“Do you recall… Do you recall when I told you that our body’s chemistry would react based off each other’s- scents, emotions…desires?”

 

“Yeah,” he says cautiously, not liking where this is going.

 

“Well. It would appear that due to your pregnancy, all those factors are… enhanced? I guess you could say,” Cas mutters.

 

“Meaning?”

 

“Dean… I don’t want embarrass you…”

 

Fuck- he knew it! The only reason Cas was acting so oddly was him. But why? It was hardly the first time he’d seen him shirtless…

 

“Just tell me, dude- I don’t care,” he insists, curious now as he leans against the back of the couch. Cuz’ really, how bad could it be?

 

“Please, don’t be embarrassed, it is perfectly natural- your body is producing a multitude of hormones right now, and paired with the sight of you in an undressed state…” he says talking fast, eyes finally opening to look at him pleadingly, “But the reason I need a moment is due to the fact that my body is reacting…Your scent- it’s more potent after… sexual release. It’s clinging to you now, Dean- almost as if you were in heat-I didn’t want to invade your privacy, but I can’t- I can’t get up right now without embarrassing _mysel_ f.” He says, looking down pointedly at his clenched fists covering his- _ooooh._

 

All the blood drains from Dean’s face as he finally puts it all together before all of it makes a quick return, rushing to his cheeks, his ears, his neck. His whole body is flushed, feeling more naked then he was a few minutes ago in just a towel.

 

“Oh my god,” he mutters, shocked, “Oh my _god-”_ he groans, turning around and covering his burning face with his hands. And he had assumed it couldn’t be that bad! He shouldn’t have fucking asked!

 

While things were progressing slowly between him and Cas, this was too fucking much, too fucking soon. While bragging about his conquests in bed used to be norml, expected even when working with a bunch of men, guys did not just go around talking about ckokin’ the chicken. It was like fight club- and the number one was to _never_ talk about fight club. At this moment, all he wanted was for a hole to open up in the ground and swallow him whole.

 

“Please calm down, Dean,” Cas says, voice coming closer now. “It isn’t a big deal.”

 

“Maybe not for you!” he mutters frantically through his fingers, trying to hide how red he is. Even though Cas can’t possibly know _what_ he was jerking it to, Dean does. And knowing what he knows makes it all the more shameful.

 

Hearing foot steps right behind him, he steps forward, intending to escape when he feels fingers in his belt loop pulling him backwards.

 

“Cas - ”

 

“Dean,” he says, pulling Dean back far enough so he can speak quietly in his ear, keeping a hold on his belt loop so Dean can’t run away, “I don’t blame or judge you for giving in to the demands of your body. There is nothing to be ashamed about. While our current circumstance is not ideal in means of privacy, I believe I am the only one who will be able to scent you so…thoroughly. I do apologize for making you uncomfortable, but you _did_ ask.”

 

There’s a smile in Cas’s voice now, but he’s still too embarrassed to make a joke of this.

 

Dropping his hands from his face but turning it away in the opposite direction he can feel Cas, he looks to the door in desperation. “Can we just go?”

 

Finally releasing his hold on his jeans, his hand moves to Dean’s lower back instead, making two soothing circles before stepping forward to lead the way. “Of course, Dean. Let me retrieve my keys first, I believe I might have dropped them some where near the door.”

 

“We’re taking your prissy little Prius?” he grumbles. It felt like Cas just wanted to kick him while he’s down.

 

“Yes, Dean,” Cas says, bending down to grab his keys before smirking over at Dean, “I’m driving. My vehicle is much safer as well as more practical than your muscle car.”

 

“You’re practical,” Dean mutters under his breath, but follows Cas anyway without trying to argue.

 

 Maybe this way Cas would be distracted, leaving Dean to stew in his mortification the whole ride there. He didn’t even think about how this was his first time in public since he’d quit taking the blockers, he didn’t even really care at the moment. As soon as Cas unlocks the door, Dean sits his ass down in the boring gray passenger seat, and turns his whole body to face the window.

 

He can hear Cas sigh before he starts his engine, but otherwise, Cas doesn’t try to make Dean talk. The ride to the store is only about five minutes or so, but in the silence, embarrassed silence in Dean’s case, it feels much, much longer. It’s a fucking relief when the grocery store comes into view. When Cas parks, Dean is already reaching for the door handle when Cas says his name softly. He pauses, but still can’t muster up the courage to look Cas in the eye.

 

“Dean,” he says again, more insistently, urging Dean to look at him.

 

When Dean refuses again, Cas takes one of Dean’s hands from where they are gripping the material over his legs tightly. Too shocked to resist, he turns around finally to watch as Cas leans over and kisses his hand softly, right on his knuckles, lips a warm pressure that has him forgetting to breathe.

 

Holding his lips there as Dean meets his eyes for the first time since the whole fiasco went down, Cas smiles into Dean’s hand before pulling away.

 

“Come on, Dean,” he says still smiling, “The store awaits.”

 

Patting his hand once more, Cas gets out of the car and shuts his door, waiting for Dean to do the same, as he blinks dumbly before following. When Dean regains his mental facilities- meanwhile tells the fluttering in his stomach to fuck off- he catches up to Cas, meeting Cas’s soft eyes before they step towards the front of the store. They walk together, side-by-side in through the dark parking lot. It’s getting darker much faster nowadays, and Dean only catches glimpses of Cas’s smile surreptitiously as it’s illuminated as they walk under infrequent lamp posts.

 

As they reach the automatic doors and Cas goes to grab a cart, Dean decides to end his silence.

 

“Uh-uh- Cas. I get to push the cart,” he says firmly, stepping around him to pull the cart Cas was about to grab out of it’s pen. “You can grab a basket, or whatever.”

 

“We are shopping together, Dean- I don’t see the point in getting both,” Cas says, staring between the carts and the baskets, trying to understand.

 

“No no no no no,” Dean smirks, pushing the cart through the sliding doors, leaving Cas outside. “You go get your healthy shit. I’ll go get the good stuff.”

 

He looks over his shoulder at Cas’s chuckle, “Alright. Don’t go too crazy, Dean,” he says fondly, “Find me when you’re done.”

 

Nodding, he heads straight for the baking aisle. He’s been craving something sweet for a long ass time, and he’s not above making it himself. He was always good at making Sammy’s birthday cakes, and always got compliments when his little brother needed him to make cupcakes for his class. And not that he would ever admit it, but it was kinda fun. Pushing the cart in front of him, one foot on the bottom rail so he’s semi riding it like he used to when he was a little kid, he’s overwhelmed when he sees all his options.

 

He could make brownies, chocolate-chip cookies, lemon bars, cinnamon swirl muffins, banana bread, or fucking _pie_ \- and it all sounds fucking amazing. Mouth watering, he realizes this is probably what Cas had meant when he said don’t go too crazy. He’s never really had a sweet tooth before though, so now that he does, he kind of wants it all.

 

Deciding on double chocolate chip brownies and banana bread this time, thinking he’ll work his way up to baking a pie, he gets all the shit he needs for them before heading over to the chip section. He doesn’t even think before he grabs a bag of Ruffles, Hot Cheetos, and Sour Cream and Onion Pringles. When he goes to the next aisle, he stares at the rows of cereals critically, hoping something with speak to him when he hears a low whistle behind him.

 

“Hey sweetheart,” a deep voice leers from behind him, “Where’s your Alpha?”

 

“Back off asshole,” he snaps, turning to glare at the heavy-set man behind him who had not so subtly been staring at his ass. The dude looked like a fucking dad-wearing cargo shorts and a zipped up sports jacket- but from the lust he could smell pouring off the man, he knew he had to be a fucking Alpha.

 

The man puts his hands up in surrender, but continues to look him up and down, obviously checking him out. “Whatever you say, sugar,” he says, smiling creepily as Dean takes a step back, “If your Alpha don’t treat you right, my knot is always available for you, pretty girl.”

 

He winks before walking away, and it makes Dean’s stomach churn in disgust. Bringing his hand up to cover his mouth as the need to vomit arises, Dean abandons as he feels it coming. Seeing the restroom sign at the end of the aisle, he runs over, pushing the door open harder than he probably should have as it slams loudly against the wall; he steps as quickly as he can to the largest stall , barely locking it behind himself as he falls to his knees and throws up loudly into the toilet.

 

Breathing hard, he gags as he finishes, not even trying to get up despite the fact that he’s in a public restroom and the floor is probably covered in germs. Closing his eyes and trying to get his hitched breathing under control, he shifts to lean against the wall, sitting on his ass as he brings his knees to his chest. Thinking about that last couple of minutes, he fights the urge to puke again, working through it in his shock.

 

With all that had happened with Castiel, he’s forgotten to worry about his scent- what he knew others would smell now. He was a fucking idiot to have forgotten. He should have expected this, but he really hadn’t. That’s probably why he’d reacted so strongly. Cas made him feel like nothing had changed, treated him like being an omega was perfectly normal, and he’d believed it- forgotten that there was anything wrong in the first place, and gone on as if it was any other day.

 

Logically, he knew he shouldn’t care about what ignorant assholes said or did, but in his head, he kept repeating the ugly words over and over again, burying his head in his knees and rocking back and forth a little bit, trying to calm himself down. When he finally got his breathing under control again, he leaned his head back against the tiled wall wondering how much time had passed, and if Cas had noticed his absence.

 

It was like he summoned the man as soon as he thought of him.

 

Opening his eyes as he hears the bathroom door creak open, he hears someone take two steps into the bathroom before a frantic voice calls, “Dean?”

 

Sighing, and rubbing a hand over his face, he can’t help but smile I tiny bit at Cas’s tone. “I’m in here, Cas.”

 

“Oh thank god,” he hears Cas say, his footsteps coming nearer until he can see Cas’s brown leather shoes underneath the stall door. “Are you alright?” he asks worriedly.

 

“M’fine,” he mutters, “Just got sick is all.” There was no way in hell he was going to tell Cas what had really happened. He’d already seen Cas in action once, and it wasn’t something he wanted to see again for a very long time.

 

“Can I come in, Dean?” Cas asks softly now.

 

He doesn’t want to talk, doesn’t want to be seen right now, but for whatever reason, he’s rolling to his feet and unlocking the door without another thought.

 

Immediately Cas takes him into arms, gathering him close as a hand finds his hair like it always does when he and Cas are close. Stroking it softly, the other hand rubs his back. While he’s stiff at first, biting his lip as he turns to scent Cas’s neck, he can’t help but melt in the other man’s embrace. Cas doesn’t even know what’s wrong, yet he knows exactly how to make Dean feel better.

 

“Are you okay, beautiful? We can leave,” Cas whispers into Dean’s hair.

 

“I’m fine, little Alpha,” he says back.

 

And it’s true. As much as what just happened sucked, he was better than that. He wouldn’t let anyone’s opinion get to him, and he wouldn’t let it bring him down either. Smiling slightly into Cas’s neck, he wondered if there was still time to grab a pack of oeros before they head home.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mistakes are my own, will go back and edit eventually! Haha let me know what y'all think!


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last update before real life. It's short and VERY sweet. Hope you enjoy, and let me know what you think! I love each and every one of you beautiful people!

 

 

He’s almost made it exactly four months when his world shifts completely. Everything is put into perspective, and his priorities are finally straightened out as well as his attitude.

 

It’s a Friday night, and Cas had nodded off while watching the cooking channel, a hand still frozen on Dean’s chest where it has slipped from stroking his hair. Blinking sleepily himself, but determined to see who wins the sixth episode of Chopped they’ve watched in a row(not gonna lie, he was rooting for the lady with the Mohawk); he’s pulling the blanket tighter around himself when something _moves._

 

At first he thinks he just imagined it, but then something _flutters_ inside of him again, and his eyes fucking shoot open. Quickly slipping out of Cas’s loose hold, he sits up, no longer feeling tired in the slightest, and looks down at his little bump incredulously.

 

Nothing happens.

 

Breath coming fast, he looks over at Cas, wondering what he should do now. But the Alpha is dead to the world at the moment, head tipped back, mouth slightly parted, and he doesn’t want to wake him up if he’s is just being over dramatic.

 

Cautiously, feeling like his heart has somehow made its way into his throat, he brings his hands up to cradle his slightly protruding belly on both sides- hands almost touching- and waits.

 

It’s only a few heart beats later when the fluttering comes again, this time more distinguishable- and he knows for sure that this isn’t in his head at all. He can feel his jaw hanging wide open, can feel unshed tears blurring his vision, but he doesn’t give a flying fuck as he stares down at his hands.

 

That was his baby kicking.

 

 _His_ pup.

 

This whole fucking time he’d been afraid to hope, afraid that Cas would be wrong and this wouldn’t work out- he’d fucked up one too many times- and so none of it had clicked. There was a separation between him and what was happening, he knew vaguely what was happening, what he had to do, the necessary actions, but he hadn’t felt connected- not really- to the life growing inside him. Not until this second.

 

Gasping as the baby shifts slightly again, he doesn’t even realize he’s smiling until a single tear makes it’s way down his cheek- feeling the wetness pause momentarily in the indentation due to his cheeks being pushed so far wide.

 

Swiping at his eyes quickly, he laughs at himself as he scoots back over to Cas- shaking him awake probably far less gently than he should of.

 

“Cas,” he says, still semi-quietly, but with no results. “Cas!” louder now, shaking him harder-but the only indication that the man can hear him is an undecipherable grumble. _“Cas!”_

 

“-what-hmmm?” His eyes are open and he sits up, but Cas still looks more than half asleep. Seeing the expression on Dean’s face though, Cas leans forward, blinking the sleep out of his eyes, and looks around- inhaling what must be one hell of a scent- head jerking back in surprise.

 

“What is it Dean? Are you alright?” he asks, clearly confused.

 

His heart is still racing and the smile is probably permanent-so he doesn’t say anything. He’s too excited, too hyped, too _happy_ to put words together right now. Taking Cas’s hands in his own shaking ones, he turns them over- palms down, and gently places Cas’s hands where his own had been on his stomach. He knows this is new for them as Dean has been pretty consistent in keeping the man at arm’s length when it comes to anything intimate, and distantly he notes how tense Cas is in his surprise, but none of that matters as they both feel a fluttering kick against their joined hands.

 

His eyes are on Cas this time instead of his hands, so he gets to see the exact moment Cas realizes what’s going on. Face slack in shock, he whispers, “Dean,” like he’s looking for a life-line, unable to look up as his hands twitch beneath Dean’s- desperate to feel something again.

 

Dean’s smiling so wide it’s starting to hurt as Cas’s face slowly morphs from confusion to elation when they both feel movement again.

 

It’s dark in his apartment, the only light coming from the television, but the dim light only serves to highlight the Alpha’s eyes and the slight crinkles around them that only make an appearance when he smiles the way he’s smiling now. With his whole being.

 

“Dean,” he says again, finally meeting his eyes, and Dean can the awe in them that must be a reflection of his own.

 

Then Cas is suddenly closing the distance between them, pushing Dean onto his back as Castiel crushes his mouth to his so quickly his head spins. For a few seconds, Cas’s lips are moving against his own, feverish and aggressive, as Dean freezes when he feels Cas’s hands bracketing his face- but then Cas is pulling back just as abruptly- eyes wide and horrified.

 

“Oh God, Dean,” Cas chokes, “I’m. I’m so sor – ”

 

But he doesn’t let him finish. Gripping the man by his stupid trench coat he’d forgotten to take off earlier, Dean drags Cas back in to silence him with his lips- closing his eyes and trying his best not to smile in order to kiss him properly. It’s hard, the way he’s feeling.

 

Slanting his mouth as soon as Cas gets the picture and starts kissing him back, Dean mirrors Cas’s hands-which have moved back to cradle his face- and uses his grip to pull him in closer, so that Cas has to hover over him, deepening the kiss to feel as much of Cas’s heat as possible.

 

Tentatively, Cas’s tongue begins to trace the seal of Dean’s lips, asking for entrance, and he gladly grants it, opening their kiss and letting Cas in- feeling Cas’s quiet moan vibrate against his lips as their tongues meet for the first time. Moving his hands to work his fingers through the Alpha’s hair, Dean sighs into Cas’s mouth as he relaxes back into the couch.

 

They continue to make-out like fucking teenagers for a few minutes before Cas pulls away slightly, placing one, then two, then three more kisses on Dean’s lips before putting enough space between them in order to meet eyes as they both smile stupidly at each other.

 

“Hi,” he whispers to Cas, hand still stroking the side of his face.

 

“Hello Dean,” Cas pants back still smiling, turning his head to kiss the palm of Dean’s hand. But then he’s moving down, clambering down the couch until he’s level with Dean’s belly. Placing his hands back on either side again, Dean watches as Cas looks up to look questioningly at him. He doesn’t know what he’s about to do, but he nods anyway, biting his lip when Cas leans down to kiss his belly lightly and whisper, “Hello baby.”

 

Tears automatically spring to his eyes again(it’s the hormones, dammit!), and throat clogs up as breaths shakily. Silently, he covers Cas’s hands with his own, joy so overwhelming he doesn’t know what to do. He’s never felt like this before.

 

“Cas,” he breathes, as he lets his head fall back to stare at the ceiling, “the pup is okay.”

 

He’s still reeling- still can’t believe this is happening, but fucking hell- he’s so relieved.

 

“I told you it would be, Dean,” Cas says softly, still caressing his stomach, “But talking about it, and _feeling_ it are two very different things I suppose.”

 

“Pffft,” he snorts, “You can say that again. Holy shit Cas- we’re gonna be parents,” he exclaims incredulously.

 

“We are,” he agrees, and Dean can hear the smile in his voice.

 

“That’s fucking nuts, dude! With my little pudger _moving_ \- it’s fucking real! Like really real.  How are we even going to do this, man? Am I gonna have to drive a fucking mini van or something- cuz’ that would  seriously suck.”

 

“You don’t have to drive a mini van, Dean,” Cas laughs, shaking his head at him.

 

“Oh thank god,” he breathes in relief, before he smirks over at Cas, “Because I want my baby to like Baby. They’ll be like peas in a pod, and I’ll be the coolest Dad in the world.”

 

“I’m sure you will be.”

 

Nodding his head to himself, he realizes for the first time how they smell. With their combines, matching scents of contentment and over the top happiness; they actually smell _mated._ When John accused him of it, and when Cas had tried explaining what was happening between them, he’d brushed it off; written it off as two outlandish, too impossible to even imagine. Until now he’s ignored his instincts when they’d insisted they wanted Cas, but now? The idea that they smelled mated didn’t scare him like it used to. Yeah, it was fucking daunting, and they had a lot more time until he would be comfortable seriously contemplating it, but it didn’t feel quite so unrealistic now.

 

Smiling again, he sits up, bringing his legs back to the floor.

 

“I know it’s like 8:30 or something- but I think brownies would be the perfect way to finish the day. Whatcha think?” he asks Cas critically, pretending to really think about it.

 

“I think that’s a wonderful idea, Dean,” Cas smiles back.

 

Popping up with renewed energy, he says, “Okay, brownies it is then! You stay here, dude. I’ll be right back!”

 

Cas looks like he’s about to argue, probably insist that he come with him, but before he can, Dean walks over to stand in front of him; tipping his head up to kiss him softly.

 

“I’ll be right back little Alpha,” he says quietly, touching his forehead to Cas’s briefly before he pulls away with a smile, heading for the kitchen when Cas finally nods at him silently.

 

The truth is, he needs a minute.

 

Going through the motions of making the brownies, the tv working as background noise, covering up the quiet shifting of flour and mixing bowls, he finishes quickly- sliding the small square into the oven. Moving to lean against the far wall in his small apartment kitchen, he looks down at his belly before covering it with his hands again, smiling as it moves at his touch.

 

“Hi pup,” he whispers, “I know it’s been a rough couple of months for you, but I _swear_ I’m never gonna let anything bad happen to you ever again, okay?”

 

All he gets in response is a slight flutter, but it’s enough.

 

It’s more than enough.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know my chapter lengths are inconsistent, but that's just me! Haha and as soon as i'm finished with a chapter, and I like the way it ends, I will post it. Regardless of when i posted last. I'm not one to draw it out, and I will never be one of those authors who will post like every friday or something. When I'm done, you will get it! :)
> 
> Mistakes are my own! I got really excited writing this, so don't judge me for them! ;)


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Saturday, ya'll. FYI- every single one of you are freaking awesome. Not just for reading this story. I mean in general. You are special, loved, interesting, unique, and cherished. Never let anyone make you think differently.

 

 

Contemplating if he _really_ needs to eat a fourth brownie, and if he really wanted to get up and go all the way to the kitchen to get one, he looks across the couch and watches as Cas licks the rest of the chocolate from his fingers. As much as the sight has his lower half perking up in interest, and he kind of wishes he could kiss him again, Dean can’t help smiling fondly at the man and the memory the gesture stirs.

 

“My little brother used to beg me to lick the spoon after I made brownies,” he says wistfully, thinking back to simpler times. When things weren’t complicated by gender designation, and his brother barely cleared his shoulder. “He was never one to let chocolate go to waste either, that’s for damn sure.”

 

Cas’s mouth opens like he’s going to say something, but thinks better of it, and closes it again- looking down at where their legs are pressed together between them on the couch. He can guess what Cas was about to say.

 

“How come you never ask about my family, man?” he asks curiously. “You gotta be curious…”

 

Cas had asked a few times of course, but after Dean had bitched at him enough in those first rough couple of weeks, the questions stopped and Cas hadn’t tired again. And after John had paid them a visit, the time had never seemed right, because their encounter was still too fresh. But now that everything was sorta looking up, he’s wondering why he hasn’t.

 

“Of course I am, Dean,” Cas says as he looks up to hold his gaze, “But your family seems to be a sensitive subject, and I didn’t want to cause you any undue stress. Besides, I was hoping you’d tell me when you were ready.”

 

“Undue stress? I’m not some fragile little thing, dude. You don’t have freak’in coddle me,” he scoffs, “And you don’t have to walk on eggshells around me either.”

 

Cas nudges him with his foot. “ _You_ might not be fragile, but the pup _is._ And the two of you are directly linked for the foreseeable future, meaning you have to be cautious about anything and everything you’re putting into your body. Emotions included, Dean.”

 

Damn he hated it Cas’s argument was _logic_. He’d almost rather him go off on an emotional tangent or whatever so he could at least have the chance to argue back. The way Cas did shit, not only did he prove himself correct, but he made Dean feel like an idiot most of the time.

 

“Yeah, well,” he stammers indignantly, “that’s besides the point, isn’t it? If we’re talkin families, you might as well just ask what you want to know. Get it over with, you know?”

 

“No Dean, I don’t know. If this particular conversation is going to upset you, then I’d rather avo -”

 

“Cas!” he interrupts, “Me and the pup are fine,” he says as he pats his stomach lightly, secretly wishing the baby would move again, “Don’t we smell fine? I know you can scent us,” he accuses.

 

When Cas grudgingly nods, Dean continues, running a hand through his hair. “See? Come on, man. I said it’s ok, and I mean it.”

 

Squinting his eyes at Dean like he’s trying to decide if Dean is serious or not, he thinks for a moment before leaning into the couch with a sigh.

 

“What’s your brother like?” his quiet rasp finally comes.

 

“Sammy?” he says, mind automatically flashing to all the missed calls that are steadily building up on his phone. “Sammy’s a good kid. Although I guess I can’t really call him a kid anymore since he’s a friggin’ sasquatch,” he says in amusement.

 

“Are the two of you very close?” Cas asks.

 

“Pretty much raised the kid myself,” he nods, smiling to himself, “My dad was gone a lot for work, ya know? Couldn’t always be there when we needed him, so I did the best I could. Tried to make sure he was happy and somewhat healthy, encouraged him to shoot higher than the stupid ass small town we grew up in. Sam always was a dreamer, ambitious and driven, but something actually came of it for once. He’s at Stanford now,” he can’t but brag a little, “Interning under some fancy lawyer or whoever. He’s most likely do bitch work right now, but that kid is gonna go places.”

 

Cas frowned at him. “Why do you say that like _you_ will not be, Dean?”

 

“Cas,” he snorts, “Look at me. I have a high school diploma, a job as a freakin mechanic, and I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m kind of knocked up,” he says sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

 

“That doesn’t mean your life has ended, Dean,” Cas argues, “On the contrary, on a very real level, your life has just begun.”

 

Rubbing his hands over his belly, where he knows Cas is looking now, he smiles when his stomach flutters under his touch again.

 

“Say whatever you want, man. If I got to choose who this kid will take after between me and Sam? I’d hope my kid grows up to be more like him,” he says with finality, hoping Cas won’t argue. That was just his opinion, after all.

 

“You miss him,” Cas states, sounding more like a fact then a question.

 

“Well yeah, of course I do,” he sighs, finally feeling how late it is, “With him in fucking sunny California, it’s not like I get to see him a whole hell of a lot.”

 

“But you used to communicate on a regular basis,” Cas prods persistently, “I know you did. Like I also know that you’ve since, stopped. I’ve seen you purposely ignore phone calls Dean, and if I had to guess, they are all from Sam.”

 

“It’s not that simple man,” he says as he continues to rub circles lightly into his stomach to keep himself from getting too tense, “Yes I miss my brother, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready to talk to him yet.”

 

“And why is that, Dean?” he asks softly, nudging him with his foot again.

 

Turning away from Cas’s concerned eyes, he can’t help but think this had been a bad idea. Who was he kidding, talking about his family was always a bad idea.

 

“Dean,” Cas says quietly when Dean hesitates to respond. “It’s alright, don’t feel pressured to tell me.”

 

While having an out eased something inside him, he knew he wouldn’t take it. He’d told Cas he could ask anything, and now that he had, no matter how much he didn’t want to talk about it, Cas deserved some answers after all this time.

 

“He- Sam’s… Sam is an Alpha,” he murmurs, looking down at his fingers. “And while he’s nothing like John it terms of assholery, he might have said something along the lines of the crap John was spouting at us a while back.”

 

Cas’s face immediately darkens, and Dean has to lean back as the burnt rubber scent of Cas’s anger hits him in the face. “What did he say to you?” Cas demands harshly.

 

“He didn’t mean it, Cas. I _know_ he didn’t. Like I said, Sammy’s a good kid. He just wasn’t thinking, and I wasn’t really helping,” Dean assures him, but if anything, Cas looks even more angry.

 

“This isn’t your fault, Dean,” he says heatedly, “None of this is, and you do not deserve this kind of treatment from your family. Right now, you need support, people you can rely on and trust. Not people who are too ignorant to see a good thing when it’s right in front of them!”

 

Rolling his eyes at Cas’s little tantrum, “Are you under the impression that family is supposed to make you feel _good_? Cuz’ from my experience, it’s exactly the opposite. They’re obviously supposed to make you miserable, that’s why they’re family… My family just excels at it.”

 

“Dean,” Cas says as he scrubs a tired hand down his face, “That’s _not_ the point of family.”

 

“Because your family is so perfect?” Dean snaps, “You barely talk about them, dude. And I know I’m not exactly chatty Kathy over here, but neither are you.”

 

“This isn’t about me, Dean,” Cas tells him patiently. “This is about you, and your family. I’m sorry if I offended you. I tend to lose myself when it comes to you. I apologize, please continue.”

 

Huffing as he slumps back into the couch, Dean takes a deep breath through his nose before letting it go. “With him, I just need time. I’ll get over it eventually…Besides Sam, what is there to know about?”

 

Schooling his face, but not able to keep the anger from scenting the air, Cas grumbles, “Well I think it would be safe to assume that your father and I do not get along.”

 

“No kidding,” Dean laughs, “What gave you that idea?”

 

“You could call it a hunch,” Cas smirks before frowning again. “Dean… from what I could tell from our brief encounter… your father is a horrible man. Bitter and jaded. And if you hadn’t broken ties with him beforehand, I would not have felt safe with him around the pup.”

 

“Yeah,” he agrees, looking down at himself. As sad as it is to realize it, Cas is right. John was obviously unstable, too filled up with anger and ignorance to be trusted around something so fragile and helpless. It was probably a good thing things had ended the way they had. Well, except for the getting punch in the face part, because he would have much rather gone without.

 

“He wasn’t always that bad,” he finds himself saying even though the last thing he wants to do is defend him. “We lost mom when I was four- fire- and after that, you could tell he’d lost a part of himself. Threw himself into work, tried to teach us right from wrong, made sure we were able to defend ourselves…” he pauses. “It wasn’t until I uh- It wasn’t until I presented that a switch just flipped. I’m from a long line of Alphas, man. It’s kind of tradition. My whole life I was taught how to be an Alpha, so when I didn’t pop a  knot…” he trails off, letting Cas fill in the gaps.

 

“How old were you, Dean?” Cas asks him softly.

 

“Fifteen.”

 

“You were fifteen, and your father decided to treat you differently because of the way you presented?”

 

“Yep.”

 

“You had no control over that, Dean. You have to know that,” Cas pleads.

 

“That meant nothing to him, dude,” he sighs bitterly, “He didn’t give a single fuck about how I felt. It was the worst thing that had every happened to me, and John agreed. To him, I was his biggest disappointment, his biggest embarrassment- and he never failed to remind me of that.”

 

“I’m sorry you had to go through that, Dean,” Cas whispers sadly, eyes wide and apologetic.

 

“Don’t be. I’m actually kind of grateful at the moment,” he says, smirking. “Thanks to him, I know exactly what _not_ to do with this one,” Dean says, patting his stomach again. “Isn’t that right little pudger?”

 

Cas looks at him for a moment, shocked- before laughing quietly and shaking his head at Dean.

 

“What?” he says defensively. He just had a fucking life changing realization today, he thinks he deserves a little slack with his attempt at baby talk. Fuck- he’s tired! _That’s_ why he had no control over what came out of his mouth.

 

“It’s nothing,” Cas says through his smile, “I just hadn’t realized you’d nicknamed the pup already.”

 

He can feel his cheeks darken a little bit, and he’s glad it’s dark in the living room.

 

“Yeah, uh,” he says awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck, “Not exactly _showing_ ,” he winces. It’s a force of habit. “So it kind of looks like my stomach has more pudge than it normally would.”

 

“Dean,” Cas dead pans, “I’m not sure what constitutes as _showing_ for you, but at four months, you hardly look like you’ve eaten too much.”

 

“Hey! You haven’t seen my fat pants yet! You don’t know my life!”

 

Throwing his head back, Cas laughs so loud it startles him. But he can’t but join in soon after, Cas’s laugh is fucking contagious, heard so rarely he tries to memorize it every time he hears it.

 

“Maybe I don’t,” Cas finally chuckles, “But since you are a male carrier, it is perfectly natural to be showing this early. Since your bodies are naturally slimmer and hold less fat than women do in order to prepare for pregnancy, it’s much more likely that your body will be changing faster in order to compensate for it’s lack of protection and give.”

 

“What?!” Dean squawks, “You mean I’m going to get bigger- faster?!”

 

“Of course, Dean,” he says so simply Dean wants to punch him, “While male and female Omegas are similar in many ways, their birthing patterns are not. Along with different changes in your bodies, male Omegas can also be expected to carry for longer periods of time.”

 

“Fantastic.” Dean groans, laying back against the arm of the couch and throwing his arms over his face. “I’m gonna look like a fucking whale, aren’t I?” he mutters into against his skin.

 

“Although you will become quite enlarged, I highly doubt that any part of you will become proportionate to that of a whale.”

 

Bringing his arms down, he glares at the man across from him. “Thanks Cas. You really know how to make me feel better,” he says sarcastically.

 

Cas just smirks at him cheekily. There goes that dry sense of humor again he thinks, smiling despite himself.

 

“Anyway,” Dean continues, “If that’s the case, how long you think I got before everyone knows I’m barefoot and pregnant?”

 

Cas frowns at him.

 

“Why does that concern you Dean?” Cas asks seriously, suddenly no traces of their previous laughter or smiles. “Are you ashamed over the fact that you are carrying a life inside you?”

 

He wants to respond indignantly, be offended that Cas is asking such a brutal question, but he can’t. For one millisecond, the part of himself that had felt like this situation was happening to someone else whispered _yes._ Shaking his head at himself, he knew that was no longer the answer he wanted to respond with.

 

“No,” he says quietly. “I’m not _ashamed_ of this. I just… don’t know what to expect. How to deal. It’s so _much_ , Cas. It’s kinda overwhelming, but no. I’m not ashamed anymore.”

 

“I understand that this is a lot to take in, Dean,” Cas says softly, propping his head up with his arm against the couch, “This is new for both of us. But we’ll figure it out.”

 

“Yeah,” he agrees, but even to himself he doesn’t sound too sure.

 

“That reminds me,” Cas perks up, excitement evident in his voice. “You have your first appointment with our OB/GYN coming up in a few days. It’s the day after Halloween, at noon.”

 

“Ahh the good ol’ days. When all I had to worry about after Halloween was a stomach ache,” Dean says longingly.

 

Cas kicks him lightly. “There is absolutely no reason to worry, Dean. Pamela is a friend of mine, and she’s very good at what she does,” Cas assures him, shaking his head with a small smile. “She may try to get your number though.”

 

“Yeah right,” Dean snorts. “Either you’re full of shit, or she’s blind.”

 

“Enough, Dean.” Cas scolds, “You may not be able to see how beautiful you are, but I can. And so does everyone else. You’ll just have to get over the fact that others can see you for what you are.”

 

“Fat?” he mutters under his breath.

 

Cas rolls his eyes at him. _Whoops_. Guess he hadn’t said that as quietly as he thought.

 

“You are insufferable, Dean Winchester,” Cas says seriously. But it’s negated by the smile on his face as he says it.

 

“That cuz’ it’s like eleven o’clock,” he insists innocently, raising his hands in surrender. “And this kid’s bed time is apparently ten fucking thirty most nights.”

 

Laughing quietly, Cas moves to get up; swinging his legs up and over Dean’s onto the floor. “Alright, alright. I can tell when I’m being shooed,” he says as he offers Dean a hand to help him up. He doesn’t need it, but he takes it anyway.

 

Cas doesn’t let go of his hand as Dean walks him to the door.

 

Before he opens it though, he turns to regard Dean one more time.

 

“Before I leave, there’s something I’d like to ask you,” Cas says, hesitating warily, squeezing Dean’s hand.

 

“Shoot.” Because honestly- after their talk today, nothing can surprise him.

 

“As I’d mentioned before, your appointment is scheduled the day after Halloween…” Cas pauses, looking at the floor and then at their tangled fingers. “And I was hoping that you’d consider staying with me on Halloween, then allow me to take you the next day.”

 

Dean blinks at him, trying to process what Cas was saying.

 

“You want me to stay the night with you?” he asks incredulously.

 

“It’s Halloween, Dean,” Cas says like it’s obvious, “I thought you might enjoy seeing the trick-or-treaters in my neighborhood since I doubt you get many here. With the additional bonus of living nearer to the hospital as well, you wouldn’t have to stress over time or driving,” Cas almost begs, breaking out those puppy dog eyes that had been so dangerous the first night they had met. “I can sleep on the couch Dean, that doesn’t matter as long as you’re comfortable. Just…please. Consider it?”

 

Biting his lip, Dean stares at the Alpha before looking down at their hands like Cas had a second ago. The sight makes him feel warm inside.

 

Slowly, he nods his head. “Yeah Cas. Okay.”

 

“Really?” Cas exclaims in disbelief, clearly anticipating another answer.

 

“I don’t have to wear a costume or anything, right?” he asks cautiously, only half joking.

 

Cas just shakes his head, smiling a little.

 

“Then I’m in.”

 

Cas’s smile morphs from a small smile into a huge one, lighting up his face as he steps forward to pull Dean into a hug. “Thank you, Dean,” he says in Dean’s ear.

 

“God, you’re such a sap,” he whispers back.

 

But when they go to pull apart, they both only make it a few inches before they freeze.

 

Faces so close together, noses almost brushing, sharing the same air. It only seems natural that Dean lean in and press his lips against Cas’s.

 

Chaste at first, they keep it simple, basking in the newness between them with closed lips until Cas nips gently at his lower lip. Making a sound he’s never heard before, Dean surges forward, wrapping his arms around Cas’s neck to pull him closer, kiss him deeper. He’s hot all of a sudden, and his body has a mind of it’s fucking own.

 

Tongues meet, teeth clash, and Dean quickly loses control of this kiss; panting as Cas’s arms go around his waist quickly before Cas finds his mouth again.

 

He knows the exact moment that Cas scents the new slick trickling out of him, because before Dean can blink, Cas is spinning him around and pinning him against the door as he renews his effort to make Dean lose his mind with his mouth alone.

 

Moaning softly at the feeling of Cas’s weight pressing against him, he slumps further down the door in an attempt to feel more of him. So he’s more than a little disappointed when Cas pulls away from his lips.

 

Resting his hands lightly on Dean’s hips, Cas places kisses all along his throat- sending goose bumps up his spine as Dean pants, trying to catch his breath.

 

When it’s quiet again, both of their breathing slow and measured, Cas pecks him on the lips one more time, before whispering, “Good-night Dean.”

 

Stepping away from the door in a daze, Dean watches as Cas smiles at him before stepping out into the night, and turning for the stairs.

 

Shutting the door, he immediately turns his back to it before leaning back. Amongst the craziness going through his head right now, his prevailing thought is; what the _fuck_ just happened?

 

 

 


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Longest chapter yet- but I really wanted to include a few things in this chapter before moving forward, so it is what it is. I hope you guys enjoy! There's fluff, angst, and....maybe a little something extra? *wink wink

 

“Son of a bitch,” Dean groans.

 

Turning this way and that, he can’t help but think that Cas had been right. He didn’t make a habit of looking at himself naked in front of the mirror, but after the last couple of days of struggling to get his jeans on, he’d finally given in. It was time to face reality. He must have been deluding himself before, because this shit just couldn’t happen in the time span he thought it had. Turning to look at his side profile, one hand holding the towel around his waist, and the other placed over his protruding stomach, he tries to suck it in to no avail.

 

He couldn’t even tell himself that he looked bloated or he’d eaten too much anymore. No, now he looked distinctly… expecting.

 

Groaning in frustration again, he thinks this what his life is now. Frustration.

 

He’d just gotten out of the shower _again_. With his ass being the mess it was and his hormones being all over the place, he had to start taking showers before he went to sleep, and right when he woke up or else the scent of slick and arousal would follow him around every where he fucking went. And sometimes, that wasn’t even enough.

 

Not like the showers were helping with anything but his scent though, he thought bitterly, glaring at his towel covered dick he could feel hanging limply between his legs.

 

“Fucking traitor,” he grumbles at it, feeling a little bit more than betrayed.

 

After that night they went to grocery store, he hadn’t been able to get him self off since. And it wasn’t from lack of trying. He was always hot and bothered these days. But every time he was in the shower or had a few minutes to himself before getting out of bed, he’d get right to the precipice, right to cusp of orgasm, then…nothing.

 

At first, he’d written it off due to lack of new spank material, his old fantasies just not able to do the trick anymore, but even after he’d let his mind wonder to a certain blue eyed Alpha, he still couldn’t reach completion.

 

It was like an itch he couldn’t scratch, and holy hell- did it itch. All the fucking time now.

 

And Cas was definitely not helping. Ever since they’d broken that barrier of intimacy around ten days ago, there had been no going back. The day after it happened Cas had been cautious around him, probably feeling him out to see if anything had changed after Dean had had the chance to sleep on it. But as soon as Cas sat on the other side of the couch, eyes downcast and wary, he knew he’d have to be the one to let Cas know he was okay. After all, the boundaries were only there in the first place for _Dean_ ’s comfort. Cas had been very open about how he felt in the matter.

 

So after he’d switched on the tv, he’d sat down a few feet away from Cas before flopping over to rest his head in Cas’s lap like he’d been doing before they’d kissed. Cas hadn’t hesitated a second before his hand was making its way through Dean’s hair, massaging his scalp lightly. The message was clear though; nothing had changed.

 

Except for one thing, that is.

 

Getting bored with whatever monotonous murder mystery was on, he’d rolled over from his side to his back to look up at Cas- only to realize that Cas had already been staring at him beforehand. He’d smiled at him slightly when he’d met Cas’s eyes, but Cas remained unsmiling as he stroked the side of Dean’s face softly, face serious and intense before Cas slowly started to lean down.

 

He’d given Dean plenty of time to stop him, plenty of time to move if he’d wanted to, but he remained perfectly still as Cas grasped his face and angled his head the way he wanted before sealing his lips to Dean’s slowly.

 

Moving their lips in tandem, he’d let Cas set the pace as he’d suddenly found himself friggin’ boneless; the other man leaning over him so that all he saw, all he felt was Cas.

 

And Cas was fucking ruthless, mouth parting immediately, tongue trying to acquaint itself with every inch of Dean’s mouth it could. It was slow and sensual, none of that teeth and claws shit that went down last night, although it had about the same affect on his lower half as it did before.

 

Cas’s jawed clenched as he scented the air, but other than that, Cas tried his best not to draw attention to it. It was way too fucking soon to even think about bringing his slick issue into the equation.

 

Pulling away from Dean’s lips, he’d wrapped one arm underneath Dean’s shoulders to prop him up some before pressing his face into Dean’s neck, scenting him the way a mate would; the way Dean had only managed to sneak a few times when Cas was trying to comfort him; the way he desperately wanted to do himself- right now.

 

Freezing in that moment, he’d realized that this was it; the baby’s fluttering only serving to cement that fact.

 

Smiling, and wrapping an arm around the man to bring him closer, he knew there was no moving backwards after this.

 

And the next few days, they hadn’t… not counting the actual motion of going backwards that is, as every night before Cas left Dean found himself backed up against the wall or door or whatever flat surface, being kissed within an inch of his life.

 

Cas kissed him like it was going out of style, and Dean was more than on board with that line of action. Walking through the door as soon as he got there, on the couch as whatever stupid ass show played in the background, in the kitchen as they microwaved the food that they were supposed to have eaten an hour ago, and of course, before Cas left for the day. Fast, slow, fevered, or soft, it didn’t really matter. They never went farther than kisses, or shyly taking turns scenting the other, and Dean was super fucking relieved about it.

 

He knew kissing, and was experienced in it. As much as he was enjoying getting to know Cas like this, it still made him ridiculously anxious to think of doing anything further. Cas was a man just like him. That first night they’d hooked up had been a fucking blur, and he did his best to black that out.

 

This was them starting over.

 

Every day was a challenge, because every day was fucking different and unique. Some days the pup would kick inside him, and have him and Cas huddled close, fingers overlapping to feel it’s small movements. Some days Dean would just be too fucking tired to do anything more than eat and sleep as soon as he got back from work, as Cas stroked his hair. And one memorable day, they had been kissing steadily against the door for a good few minutes before Dean’s hands had instinctively gone to Cas’s chest, obviously feeling for things that were not there.

 

 Breaking away from Dean’s lips, Cas had only raised an eyebrow at Dean’s embarrassed blush before taking Dean’s hands and wrapping them around his own neck before taking Dean’s mouth again.

 

Yes, things were different, but they were a good different.

 

Not including the brand of different he was dealing with right now. Groaning again at his reflection, he wonders where all the time went. It was finally Halloween, and he was supposed to be heading for the address Cas sent him any minute now. Key word being _supposed_ to be. All he wanted to do was jerk off then sleep the rest of the day away.

 

It was tiring being on edge all the time on top of already being generally exhausted!

 

And today and tomorrow were both kind of shaping up to be a big deal, so it’s not like he could just say fuck it- text Cas that he couldn’t make it, and go to sleep- he’d pretty much promised the guy he’d be there, and tomorrow…well… they’d talked about the possibility of finding out the sex of the baby. They had both agreed that they’d had enough surprises up until this point. Tomorrow, they would know if Pudger was a boy or a girl.

 

Biting his lip anxiously, he shakes his head at himself one more time before leaving the bathroom.

 

Cas had to go in today for work while Dean hadn’t, so Cas was probably just getting back home. He has enough time to fight with his jeans again, throw on a black Henley, and then finish the look with his biggest, baggiest, military green jacket and logger boots. With what he was wearing, he was pretty sure he’d done a good enough job covering up his bump. The jacket had always been big, but now it hung on him in a way that made him look less bulky underneath, giving the illusion that the jacket was slightly puffed.

 

Grabbing only pajama pants- since the shirt he was wearing was comfortable to sleep in- his tooth brush, a change of clothes for tomorrow, and a protein bar(what the fuck had Cas done to him), he checks his phone before grabbing his keys to leave.

 

There’s another missed call from Sam, but that’s nothing new. And the last text he’d received from Cas had been at eight in the fucking morning when Cas had sent him over his address. He lived about fifteen minutes away according to his phone, and after he pressed go on the directions, pushed in his favorite cassette tape with both his favorite songs on it, he finally felt ready to hit the road.

 

Pulling out of his apartment complex, he noticed for the first time how _colorful_ everything was. Driving along, anywhere he turned, the leaves were red, orange, yellow, or brown. Gone were the last remnants of summer, all the green he’d been so accustomed to seeing, and he hadn’t even noticed.

 

It’s not like he was a recluse or anything, but since he’d met Cas and everything with the pup had gone down, he tended to cling to the comfort of his own space. He’d only gone out in public that one time when Cas had taken him to the store, and that had been a freak’in disaster. He was in no hurry to repeat the process, or have something worse happen. There really was no telling how people would react to him, so why risk it?

 

Smirking as he sees a few jack-o-lanterns in front of a lit up house, he wonders if he’ll be the kind of parent who’d go all out for silly holidays; jack-o-lanterns, fake gravestones and spider webs, over priced costumes and teeth rotting candy.

 

He’d taken Sammy trick-or-treating when they were little a few times, but back then he’d pretended to be above it all- too mature to dress up- when in reality he’d only gotten enough money from their dad for Sam’s costume. And after the first two times, he’d never live it down if he’d participated after all his bravado.

 

Shaking his head at the memory, but smiling when he remembers the moment some kid dressed up as a clown had surprised an unsuspecting Sammy dressed like a Jedi, he laughs quietly to himself. The look of abject fear on his eight year old brother’s face was forever etched into his mind.

 

Halloween wasn’t all that bad, he guessed.

 

“That doesn’t mean I’m ready for you though, buddy,” he mumbles above the music, letting one hand drift from the wheel to pat his belly. “You can just chill in there for as long as you want while I get fat, okay? No rush.”

 

He pretends not to be disappointed when the pup doesn’t kick in response. He hasn’t felt it kick for a little while, but he figures the kid needs to sleep too, and if it felt anything like Dean did now, he didn’t blame it at all. Sleeping in till ten apparently hadn’t been enough, because all he wanted to do was get back in bed.

 

When he finally spots Cas’s street, he’s surprised as he pulls into a fucking cul de sac. While Cas hadn’t really hadn’t talked about where he lived much, Dean had always assumed the man lived in an apartment or condo or something, not a _house._ A big one at that. At the very end of the cul de sac, to the sound of his phone telling him he’d arrived at his destination, he hesitates when he’s right in front of it.

 

There’s a long driveway leading up to a double garage, but he’s too busy taking in the house to think about parking his car there.

 

Unlike the most of the other houses around this one, it’s single story, but what it lacks in height, it more than makes up for length. Just like the sprawling green lawn in front of it, broken only by the huge fucking tree right in the middle of it, Cas’s house stretches much farther than any self respecting bachelor pad’s should. Easily two or three times bigger than the house he grew up in.

 

Yeah- Cas was a doctor, but damn!

 

The front of it has a multitude of pavers all in different shades of brown, with a white arch over a set of impressive cherry wood double doors. There’s windows everywhere, framed with shutters the color of the door, that show that there are lights on in the house.

 

 It’s probably around three o’clock, but since the days are getting darker faster, the dim light coming out of the windows gives the appearance that it’s actually much later than it is.

 

Gaping incredulously, he checks the address again, and even shoots Cas a quick text to let him know that he’s here. There’s no mistaking the ugly ass Prius parked in the driveway though…

 

So after a few minutes with no response back from Cas, he decides to park on the street right where he is before getting out. He’ll worry about his stuff later.

 

Following the illuminated winding walk way up to the house, he checks his phone again desperately before giving up and knocking. Is he supposed to knock? Is he supposed to just walk in? This whole- being on the opposite end of the door thing was weird as fuck.

 

And even weirder when there was no response, no sound inside indicating that there was even anyone inside, and when he rings the door-bell with the same result, he sighs before trying the handle.

 

Of course it’s unlocked, he thinks, rolling his eyes, because Cas apparently lives on Wisteria Lane or whatever, and everyone in this quaint little neighborhood probably knows each other’s middle names. Pushing the door open a crack, he sticks his head in cautiously, still apprehensive over the possibility that he’s breaking and entering into some poor unsuspecting sap’s home, but upon seeing a familiar form sprawled across a large white couch, he sighs in relief and steps all the way in, closing the door behind him quietly.

 

 

Immediately, his senses are over taken by _Cas._ The scent is everywhere, all around him, and it does worlds in means of putting him at ease. Relaxing his shoulders and breathing deeply, he goes right for the source of the scent.

 

It seems that Cas had the same idea that him and the pup had had, which was to sleep. Cas was knocked the fuck out. He was still dressed in his nice work clothes; wrinkled button up, slacks, and loafers included, and he looked like he’d just up and collapsed on the couch and had fallen asleep where he was- on his back with one arm at risk of falling off the couch while the other had a loose hold on an uncomfortable looking beaded pillow.

 

Smiling as he steps closer to the sleeping Alpha, but taking in the dark bags underneath his eyes that hadn’t been there yesterday, he doesn’t know if he should wake him up or not. Obviously, the man needs some sleep, but if that’s the case, then what should he do? It’s not like he knew his way around the place, and it would probably be rude if decided to explore while Cas was down for the count.

 

“Well,” he mutters tiredly to himself, “If you can’t beat em’, join em.”

 

He _had_ been longingly thinking about a nap on and off all day, so what was the harm in doing so with Cas? It’s not like the other man was getting up any time soon. Speaking from experience, unless there was a fucking hurricane or tornado or fireworks or some shit, Cas would not be waking up.

 

Shrugging out of his jacket and slipping off his shoes, he swings his leg over Cas’s against the inside of the couch, maneuvering himself until he’s against the cushions, on Cas’s right side.

 

Once he’s regained his balance, and he’s sure his knee is clear of anyone’s special bits, he steals the pillow out from underneath Cas’s arm before he stretches out along Cas’s body until his head is cushioned on Cas’s shoulder, and he’s clinging greedily to the man’s body heat.

 

 The dude was like a furnace where Dean was constantly freezing his ass off, so it was an easy mistake to make to say that Dean was a cuddler.

 

This is _not_ cuddling- he thinks as he tucks himself into Cas’s neck, scenting him groggily as Cas mumbles unintelligibly in response.

 

Since they’d been getting closer lately, they’d laid in this position before. So Dean knew he’d sleep better being as close as possible to Cas’s scent. Sighing softly as Cas unconsciously wrapped his arm around Dean- probably in replacement of his pillow- Dean let himself drift off to sleep.

 

 

 

When he wakes up again, it was to the feeling of someone rubbing random patterns onto his stomach and gentle pressure touching his forehead which he assumes is Cas’s lips.

 

“Dude…” he grumbles sleepily, shying away from Cas’s scruff. That shit tickled! But Cas chased his face when he ducked away, kissing his cheeks, his nose, and his forehead, laughing when Dean groaned in annoyance.

 

“Fuck you, man,” Dean finally laughed, giving in and allowing Cas to press a single, chaste kiss to his lips before pulling back enough so that they could see each other’s faces.

 

“Hello Dean,” Cas says quietly while his hand resumes rubbing, smiling as they both feel the baby kick back in response. Guess he wasn’t the only one rudely awakened. “I apologize for falling asleep, but it seems you’ve found the house alright?”

 

“Obviously,” he snorts, relaxing back into the couch,” Unless this isn’t even your house. How come you never mentioned _having_ a house before, Cas? All this time I thought you were living the bachelor’s dream; swanky apartment and nonexistent neighbors and all that! I wasn’t expecting something so…domestic?”

 

“You would have been right a few years ago. I used to inhabit an apartment much closer to the hospital, but it was _cold_. Impersonal. No grass or gardens, no noise to be heard, and I swear I was the only occupant there for the majority of the time. What you call a bachelor’s dream was a very lonely existence indeed. When the real estate market was hot, I saw a great opportunity and a great investment, and didn’t look back.”

 

“So you bought a house?! Just like that?” he asks incredulously.

 

“Would you like to see it?” Cas smiles down at him, blue eyes sparkling with excitement.

 

He opens his mouth to respond, but his stomach growling beats him to the punch.

 

“Food first, perhaps?” Cas snickers, rolling off the couch in one fluid motion, pulling his phone out of his pocket while Dean turns on his side, unwilling to get up. “It’s 5:30. Children should start arriving shortly, Dean. How does pizza sound?”

 

“Pizza?” he perks up, opening his eyes that had some how managed to close again. “Hell yes, I’m down for pizza, dude. But won’t it take a long ass time to get here, it being Halloween and all?”

 

“Probably,” Cas agrees, “That’s why I had one pre-made an frozen earlier today from the restaurant I frequent. It should only take around a half an hour in the oven, giving us plenty of time to get prepared.”

 

Sitting up, he runs a hand through his hair, regarding Cas curiously. “Prepared for…?”

 

“The trick-or-treaters, Dean. Last year was the first time I happened to be home on Halloween, and I was completely unprepared for the barrage of sugar starved children,” he smiles down at Dean, looking proud of himself, “But I will not be making that mistake again, I will not be bested. This year, I’m ready.”

 

“You’ve got to be kidding me…”

 

Cas smirks at him. “You are laughing now, but you’ll see firsthand what I am referring to. Do not underestimate the youth of todays need for confectionery consumption, Dean, you will regret it.”

 

“Yeah I highly doubt that,” he says flippantly, rolling his eyes, “Can we just get to the pizza part of the night, please? Pup decided to wake up too, and they want food just as much as I do.”

 

Smirk softening into a smile as he looks down at Dean’s stomach, Cas offers his hand. When he takes it, Cas leads him out of the living room and into a spacious kitchen.

 

It’s pretty modern, adorned exclusively with stainless steal appliances and light fixtures, but the granite counter tops and back splashes accompanied by a couple of lit candles and double oven give it a very cozy feel. The room fucking smells like fall and pumpkin pie, and it automatically has his mouth watering.

 

Pulling out one of the stools behind the counter for him, Cas waits for Dean to take a seat before pressing a few buttons on the top oven and then going over to the freezer and pulling out the flat square box.

 

He’s pulling out pans and tin foil when he asks if he wants something to drink.

 

“Do you know what sounds _really_ good right now?” He leans his chin on his hand as he watches Cas move around the kitchen.

 

“What?”

 

“Hot chocolate with a banana,” he hums appreciatively, smacking his lips. “How has no one thought of that before, it’s like the perfect combo.”

 

“Dean,” Cas says skeptically, raising an eyebrow at him, “That does not sound at all appetizing.”

 

“Don’t knock it till you try it, is all I’m saying man!” he defends.

 

“Have _you_ ever tried it?”

 

“Well….no.  But that doesn’t mean it won’t be amazing. How about you get some water boiling, and I’ll go pee. Then we can argue some more.”

 

“Charming as always, Dean,” Cas rolls his eyes. “The bathroom is through there, to your right.” He says, pointing to the opposite doorway in which they came in.

 

“It’s not my fault this kid is sitting on my bladder! Blame the pup. I’ll be right back.”

 

Hopping off the stool and going to where he was directed, he takes in what he can as he walks down the hallway. No pictures, no art, no personal touches that scream _Cas._

 

Finishing up in the bathroom, he’s about to head back to the kitchen when the door bell rings. Then what are probably four or so fists are banging on the door.

 

“Caaas!” he drawls smirking, “The little beggars are here!”

 

He hears a muffled curse and a cabinet slam shut before Cas emerges looking frazzled. He has a huge metal bowl under one arm, and an even larger bag full of assorted candy in the other.

 

“Dean!” he snaps. “Don’t just stand there, get the door!”

 

Snickering at how put-out Cas looks, he obliges, not able to resist hip checking Cas on his way though to Cas’s answering groan. Opening the door, five little voices immediately scream, “Trick-or-Treat” and hold open bags and buckets impatiently.

 

“Well what do we have here?” he asks, only holding the door open a crack and blocking Cas with his body as he tries to step around him. “I see a witch….a lion…a princess…a ghost…and uh- are you supposed to be a pirate, buddy?”

 

“I’m Captain Jack Sparrow!” the little boy in the back pipes, “I even gots the same hat and everything! But this isn’t my real hair though. My mom won’t let me have long hair,” he rambles, grabbing a dreadlock to show Dean as he tries to step past the other children. “Look! It feels funny!”

 

Laughing at the little boys attempt to get over to him- only to have his way blocked by the little girl dressed like a princess who reminds him politely that it’s, “unladylike to cut!”-he can feel Cas behind him, pressed against his back, watching him.

 

“Ohhhh you’re right, I see it now,” he says, looking down at all of them separately.  “You guys all look fantastic. It’s a shame we’re all out of candy though…”

 

“Noooooo…” the ghost groans, stomping a foot underneath his sheet, as the witch glares at him like he’d committed a major faux pas.

 

“Nahhh, I’m just kidding,” he says, stepping back and opening the door, “My friend Cas here has got the good stuff!”

 

“Can I take two!?” someone squeals as they all surge forward, Cas barely having enough time to open the bag before a hand is reaching inside it.

 

“You may, but only two. Wait your turn, there’s plenty for everyone,” Cas says calmly, unfazed by the line that had abruptly formed to get to him. Smiling at the sight, Dean heads back into the kitchen to check on the progress of his hot chocolate.

 

 

 

When the pizza is done, and the hot chocolate with a full banana inside of it is cool enough to drink, the time passes quickly to the tune of laughter and good-natured screams from kids of all ages. Cas hadn’t been exaggerating the amount of children who came to his door either, so there was always a constant flow of them, trailed by reluctant, usually tired parents, walking in groups or pairs as children came and went in droves.

 

So far, Dean’s favorite costumes of the night had been a pair of twins both dressed up as different color leggo pieces. One red, one blue, he’d cracked up when the two of them had each grabbed a candy from the bowl before promptly running into each other. Their boxy frames had them both on their backs, flailing, and unable to get up.The adult walking with them had rolled their eyes like this hadn’t been the first time that had happened tonight before helping them both up and ushering them on to the next house.

 

When there was a lull in the action Dean would drag Cas away from the door to sit on the couch when he could. Usually “sharing” a candy between them, which meant Cas would take one bite before Dean demolished it.

 

 They kissed a little, but right when Cas was starting to push him back into the cushions, the door bell would fucking ring again. Smiling mischievously at Dean’s frustrated groan, Cas always got up to answer the door.

 

This time when he makes Cas sit with him, he offers him his banana hot chocolate. It’s pretty cold now, but it still tastes fucking amazing.

 

“I’ll pass, but thank you Dean,” Cas insists, eyeing the mug in Dean’s hand cautiously.

 

“Oh come on you big baby,” he teases, pushing it closer to Cas’s face. Cas leans as far away as the couch allows, pulling his hands up in front of him to rebuke Dean’s attempt in passing it off. “You know you want to try!”

 

“Believe me, I don’t. I’m very glad you are enjoying it though,” Cas assures him. Smiling at him in that way that automatically has Dean blushing, Cas leans back against the arm of the couch to watch him.

 

“Fine then, more for me,” He means to sound confident instead of the flustered mess that he is, but when he hurriedly brings the mug to his mouth to cover up his blush, he misses his mouth completely; managing to instantly douse himself in the creamy liquid.

 

“Shit,” he hisses, standing up so he doesn’t get any on Cas’s white couch. This would happen to him. This is what he got for trying to be cool…

 

“Are you alright, Dean?” Cas worries, rushing to his feet and jogging to get paper towels from the kitchen.

 

“M’fine,” he mutters, if anything, he’s just embarrassed. It’s all over him, but his shirt definitely took the worst of it; the black material dripping as he holds it away from sticking to his skin. “Do you uh- have an extra shirt I could borrow for a little while? I left my shit in the car.”

 

“Yes of course,” Cas calls. “I actually have one of yours I’d washed and forgotten to return.”

 

When Cas comes back in he hands Dean a bunch of paper towels as well as one of his old white t-shirts he’d let Cas borrow when he’d spent the night all those weeks ago. Looking at it now though, hadn’t it been a lot bigger before? Maybe Cas had washed it too many times or something, because it had to have shrunk.

 

“Thanks,” he mutters anyway, handing his now empty mug to Cas before heading to the bathroom. 

 

Flicking the lights on and shrugging out of his sopping shirt, Dean drops it into the sink and unfolds the new shirt so he can hold it up. _Fuck_ , had Cas done this on purpose? It was no secret that Cas wanted Dean to stop hiding his pregnancy, often shaking his head at him when he insisted on extra layers before stepping out of his apartment, and reminding Dean that his bump was “perfectly natural.” It would be just like him to innocently offer him his own white t-shirt he _had_ to have known or guessed no longer fit him.

 

Grumbling to himself but left with no other options, he grudgingly slips the material over his head, working his arms up and through the arm holes before pulling it down over his stomach. It was a tight fit. He’s not even tempted to look at himself in the mirror before he’s leaving the bathroom, heading right for the door as he hears a quiet knock.

 

He can hear Cas in the kitchen, probably cleaning up the mess they made at dinner so he figures he can handle the trick-or-treaters alone this time. It’s getting late anyway, there probably won’t be too many more of them. Maybe this is the last group? He would definitely not mind hitting the hay sooner rather than later.

 

But when he opens the door, he’s momentarily surprised by the lone figure looking up at him through her smeared face paint. The little girl smiles up at him, proudly displaying two missing front teeth, and waves.

 

“Hi, I’m Katie! What’s your name?” she asks, pushing one of her blue wings back behind her shoulder and adjusting her grip on what looked like a full bag of candy.

 

She was a tiny thing, probably five or six- way too young to be out so late by herself- and her brown curls seemed to be a great source of aggravation as she blew them out of her face and looked up at him expectantly.

 

“My name is Dean,” he smiles at her, still watching behind her to see if an adult is looking after her. “Is your mom or dad here, Katie? Who’s been taking you trick-or-treating tonight?”

“My uncle,” she says simply, not meeting Dean’s eyes. But that’s because she’s very obviously staring at Dean’s stomach.

 

“Do you have a baby in there?” she squeaks, her whole face lighting up as she jumps up and down twice in apparent excitement.

 

 Tearing his eyes away from Cas’s walkway in shock, he can only blink at the little girl before she’s talking again.

 

“My mommy had a baby in her tummy last year too! She got real big, and then my brother got here,” she wrinkles her nose at him. “He’s too little to knock on doors though, so mommy had to stayed home with him. But I miss it when he was all quiet inside my mommy. He used to kick me every time I talked to him! Can I touch your baby too? I promise I’ll be real careful,” she begs, bringing out a pair of dark brown puppy dog eyes he’s completely unprepared for.

 

But his heart kind of melts at her genuine excitement. He’s almost positive her chaperone would have blushed and ushered her away if they had been present, but turning around to check for Cas, he doesn’t see the harm in indulging Katie.

 

Smiling gently, he nods over to the bench on the porch. “Sure, sweetheart. Let’s come over here though, so we can sit down okay?”

 

“Okay!” she trills. Skipping over to the bench, she plops down and waits for Dean to do the same. As soon as he’s sitting next to her, her arms shoot straight out so that both palms rest over the middle of his stomach. She obviously had a lot of experience with this while Dean is still trying to catch up with this turn of events.

 

“Helloooo? Anyone home in there?” she asks his stomach, turning her head to the side and regarding him seriously. When the baby doesn’t move, she squints her eyes and pouts before scooching herself closer on the bench so that the two of them are side by side. She then proceeds to press the side of her face directly to his belly, face paint and all.

 

“Hello?” she calls again. “My name is Katie…HEY!” she squeals as the pup finally responds, kicking gently right where her chin was pressed. Pulling back to look up at Dean with her mouth open in shocked glee, Dean can only smile back and laugh as she quickly presses her face back down and shifts her hands so they’re now on either of his sides.

 

“Babies love me,” she giggles as they both feel another kick. “See?”

 

“I do see,” he tells her, “You must be a baby whisperer or something. You’re little brother is very lucky to have you as a sister.”

 

Grinning toothily at Dean, she nods. “I’m the best. But he’s smelly! Is your baby gonna be a boy or a girl?”

 

“We’re actually going to be finding that out tomorrow.”

 

“If it’s a girl will you name it Katie?” she gasps with wide eyes. “Or if it’s a boy will you name it Big Bird? Both names are really good ones. And I’m a real good sharer!”

 

Trying not to laugh at how serious the little girl is he bites his lip and schools his face. “Those _are_ good names,” he agrees. “I’ll have to think about it.”

 

“Uh-huh! So if you’re a boy and you have a baby inside you, does that mean you are a mommy too?” she asks curiously, brow furrowed in innocent confusion.

 

Right at that moment, he catches movement from the front door. Cas had finally wondered out, and was now leaning against the door-frame watching the two of them with soft eyes. Dean wonders exactly how long he’d been standing there, how much of the interaction he’d heard, before he’d noticed.

 

Shaking his head, he turns his attention back to Katie.

 

“Just because I’m having a baby doesn’t mean I’m going to be a mommy, Katie.” He tries to explain in a way the little girl might understand, “Some men, like me, can have babies just like your mommy did. Only I guess I’ll be a Daddy instead.”

 

“Oh,” is all she says, still stroking the sides of Dean’s stomach. She looks up when they both hear a panting man stumble up the walkway to Cas’s house.

 

“Uncle Benny!” she shrieks, “You take forever! Come look, I found a baby!”

 

“Katie,” he gasps, coming closer, “I told you to wait- Dean?”

 

“Benny?” he snorts in amusement more than shock. The burly man has his face painted orange and black in an imitation of a tiger, but the sweat beading on his forehead makes him look slightly demonic. Grunting in exhaustion, the man puts both hands on his knees and tries to catch his breath. He looks _done._

 

Getting impatient, Katie hops down from the bench to pull at Benny’s hand, leading him back over to Dean. “Uncle Benny, you’re not looking! Look at the baby!”

 

Benny meets Dean’s eyes for a second, horrified, but Dean just rolls his eyes and waves him off. It’s not like the little girl knew his hang ups, and Benny already knew. He hadn’t been able to _see_ just how much his stomach had grown, but it was only a matter of time anyway. Benny’s eyes do widen when they finally take him in, but swiftly move on as his niece’s tenacity.

 

“I can see, darlin’,” Benny soothes, stopping them both in their tracks as Katie tries to keep pulling him forward, “This is my buddy from work. Dean,” he smirks before picking the little girl up and pretending to try and bite her neck while she squealed, “this is my sister’s little monster, Katie. I hope she didn’t bother you too much brother,” he teases when she pouts. “She was supposed to wait while I used the latrine, but _somebody_ just couldn’t wait to get their grubby little hands on some sugar, huh?”

 

“Uncle Benny, you’re just old!” she giggles, squirming to get down, but then freezes. “Wait! I didn’t even get my candy yet!”

 

Cas, who had been watching the situation unfold silently, finally steps outside, bucket of candy included.

 

“There’s still plenty to choose from,” Cas says. He walks over to them both to hold the bowl out for Katie’s inspection.

 

“That’s mighty fine of you, friend,” Benny drawls, staring unwaveringly at Cas and drawing himself up to full height. Is he _posturing?_ Cas isn’t paying attention to the other Alpha, but Dean can see the way Benny is sizing him up, eying him critically while he puffs out his chest. Cas misses all of this.

 

“If you promise not to tell anyone,” he tells the little girl in mock secrecy, “I will allow you to take _three._ But only if you are a very good girl, alright?”

 

“Okay,” she whispers back, hugging the three candies to her chest and smiling sweetly at Castiel before rounding on her uncle. “Can we go home now? I wanna show Cody all my candy!”

 

“Of course little missy,” Benny says. Looking down at the fairy in his arms one more time, he grins at Dean.“Dean, it was good seein’ you. You look good, chief. I guess I’ll seeya soon. You be careful now, ya hear?”

 

“Later Benny,” he nods. This isn’t the time to discuss Benny’s little power display. They could hash things out later at work, when there wasn’t innocent ears present. (Yes Castiel counted as innocent) It was probably a good thing Cas hadn’t noticed.

 

“Bye Dean! Bye baby Katie!”

 

“Bye Katie,” he chuckles, waving as the little girl and Benny leave. Cas casts him a puzzled look that just makes him laugh again.

 

“Long story-short?” He says, finally standing up to stretch his legs, “We’re either naming our pup Katie or Big Bird. She _very_ generously gave us two options to choose from, so I think we’re set in the name department.”

 

Castiel smiled and felt his heart constrict at Dean’s words. It was probably the first time he’d ever heard Dean refer to the pup as “ours.” Placing the bowl -which is still partially full next to the door- Castiel steps over to Dean to lay a hand on his lower back. As much as Dean pretends otherwise most of the time, he can tell the man is fighting his exhaustion. Pulling him close and leading him inside, he can’t help but think tonight was a success.

 

“I’m so relieved, Dean,” he jokes back quietly into the man’s ear. “And here I thought naming a child ‘Castiel’ was cruel. It’s good to know that you aspire for better.”

 

“Castiel ain’t all that bad,” Dean yawns, “Way better than Big Bird. And way better than Bert and Ernie. They were so gay,” he snickers, leaning into Cas’s heat.

 

Rolling his eyes at Dean’s antics, he doesn’t bother arguing with him. Now that the night is winding to a close, it’s time for Dean to get some rest. Being on his feet for so long tonight had obviously begun to take it’s toll, and after the hours he’d been pulling at the hospital these last few weeks, an early night sounded heavenly.

 

“Dude, I’m beat,” Dean groans flopping onto the couch and closing his eyes before Cas can stop him. “You were right about the kids, man. I shouldn’t have underestimated them.”

 

“I told you so,” he says smugly, but he still reaches down to pull Dean back off the couch. “Come on, Dean. We should call it a night. I have a pair of pajamas for you so that you do not have to go to your car.”

 

“K,” Dean mutters, letting himself be pulled to his feet and led to Cas’s bedroom. He’s too tired to look around though. As soon as Cas hands him his pants, he goes into the connecting bathroom to put them on before promptly slumping onto his back on the huge king-sized bed. It’s so soft.

 

Smiling to himself, his hands find his stomach again. Pushing the shirt up to reveal the skin underneath, he closes his eyes as runs his fingers over it softly.

 

“Cas, I’m going to be a daddy,” he says, voice shaking.

 

After his talk with Katie, that realization was impossible to ignore. He wouldn’t be like his father at all. He would be warm, affectionate, _accepting_ \- no matter how this kid presented…Reminding him that soon, they would know the sex of the baby. Anxiety creeps into his thoughts, making him feel tense all over. What if it’s a boy and it ends up just like him? What if it’s a girl?! He has no fucking clue what he would do with a girl!

 

Warm, damp pressure against his stomach has his eyes shooting open wide. Getting his elbows underneath him to prop himself up, he looks down to see Cas pressing his lips against Dean’s stomach. Seeing that he has Dean’s attention, he presses another kiss right above his belly button. The action has everything to his eyes to his toes going soft. Relaxing back into the bed, he sighs as Cas leans his forehead against his exposed skin. He’d never thought he’d be here. Totally vulnerable in an Alpha’s presence, totally and completely _content._

“What do you want, Cas?” he whispers, “Boy or girl?”

 

“It doesn’t matter to me,” Cas murmurs into his skin, “I will cherish it either way.”

 

“Me too,” he agrees simply, barely fighting back another yawn.

 

Sitting up again and crawling over to mirror Dean on the other side of the bed, Cas turns out the lights. There’s no question regarding whether or not Castiel should take the couch. Scooching up the bed as Cas draws down the covers, they are both where they’re meant to be.

 

 

 

Dean doesn’t remember falling asleep, but when he eventually jerks awake, he knows it’s way earlier than its supposed to be. It’s still completely dark, but he can hear something shifting in the room, displaced in the silence.

 

“ _Dean_ ,”Cas’s strained voice whispers in his ear. His arm is wrapped tight around Dean’s chest, and it almost feels like he’s trying to hold him still?

 

It’s then that he realizes he’s _moving._

 

With Cas wrapped around him from behind, he’d been unconsciously moving his hips backwards, inadvertently rubbing his ass against Cas’s erection.

 

But it’s not that realization that stops him in his tracks, has him frozen and unable to move. No. It’s the realization that it feels so _fucking_ good.

 

After all the frustration and disappointment he’d faced while trying to jerk himself off, he was fucking astonished by the fact that if Cas hadn’t been able to wake him up, he probably would have come just from what he’d been doing. Now that he was conscious, he was aware of just how much his body had been responding. He was hot all over, breath coming quick, and since he’d gone commando to sleep, his slick was soaking through Cas’s pajama pants.

 

And all through this, his dick hadn’t got the memo.

 

“I think my dick is broken,” he croaks.

 

Because out of everything happening right now, that is his main concern.

 

Cas, who had let out a relieved sigh when Dean ceased the motion of his hips, tightened his arms around Dean while inching his hips away from his lower half. “What are you talking about?” he asks tiredly, voice still rough with lust he hadn’t been able to help.

 

“I haven’t gotten off since the fucking grocery store. I’ve tried everything. I’m always horny, but I can’t come,” he groans, absolutely certain he wouldn’t have been able to say any of this if he hadn’t just woken up two minutes ago. “It hurts,” he lets slip quietly before he can shut his fucking mouth. Cas didn’t need to know that shit!

 

“Why didn’t you tell me, Dean?” Cas sounds upset.

 

“Like this is easy now?” he splutters uncomfortably. “This sucks, dude.”

 

“It’s alright, Dean,” Cas says gently, “If you would have told me sooner, I could have explained before it got to this point. Do you remember when I was explaining to you the ways in which male and female Omegas differed with regards to their pregnancies?”

 

When Dean nods, Cas continues. “Well I never explained how they are similar. Both males and females tend to become more sexually aroused while they are carrying due to the fluctuations in their hormones. The spot that will be the most sensitive on either will be centered around the opening closest to their reproductive organs .But unlike females, male Omegas are equipped with a penis as well as a uterus. In females, the vagina, the opening to their reproductive organs would be the source of pleasure and sensitivity. Since male omegas cannot pro-create with their sperm, their site of reproduction is not in the penis- but in your anal opening. Acting as a vagina, your anal opening will become just as sensitive, and just as receptive as a female in the same situation. While that is happening, your body will stop sending signals of arousal to your penis in order to channel them towards producing slick.”

 

“You- you can’t be serious,” Dean stutters, all the blood draining from his face. “You mean I have to -“

 

“-Dean,” he interrupts, pressing a kiss into the back of Dean’s neck. “You don’t _have_ to do anything, beautiful. I’m just telling you the facts.”

 

“It starting to hurt, Cas,” he says again frantically as he shifts his hips to alleviate the pressure between them, “What am I supposed to _do?”_

 

“There’s no shame in the things your body desires, Dean,” Cas says softly, sending chills up Dean’s spine as his breath tickles his ear. All he wants to do is lean back into the Alpha. “You don’t have to be afraid of this. There’s no one here who will judge you or think less of you, Dean. It’s just me,” he whispers the last three words.

 

“I can’t Cas. I _can’t_ ,” Dean chokes. Panting now as heat fills his entire body.

 

“It’s okay, Dean. Breathe.”

 

Turning his face into the sheets, he clenches his eyes shut and tries to hide himself. With fear clogging up his throat and anxiety doing weird things to his stomach, he barely manages to whisper, “Can you help me?”

 

He can feel Cas tense at his words, his whole body going stiff behind him as Dean waits with baited breath. The arm around him finally slithers down to find one of Dean’s hands, interlacing their fingers as Cas pulls himself flush against Dean again. Not hiding anything. Dean fights a moan at the feeling of Cas’s erection pushing firmly against his backside.

 

“Are you sure, Dean?” Cas whispers.

 

“Yeah,” he whispers back, squeezing Cas’s hand in reassurance. For Cas or for him though, he isn’t sure.

 

“If you want me to stop at any time, please, tell me alright?”

 

Again, all he can do is nod.

 

Cas starts kissing his neck again, but instead of the chaste little kissed he’d been getting all day, he can feel the wet brush of Cas’s tongue, and occasionally, the sharp bite of teeth as Cas starts to nip at him.

 

Stretching his neck to the other side to allow Cas more room, he tries to relax back into the man and let himself just _feel._

 

But as soon as his eyes close and he begins to enjoy himself- trying to angle his head better to catch Cas’s lips with his own- he feels the hand that isn’t gripping his own slide down his back.

 

Tensing as fingers slip underneath the fabric of his borrowed pajama pants, Cas stills his hand and waits until he can feel Dean breathe again before continuing. Rubbing gently at his crease, Cas strokes between his cheeks with a single finger, moving it back and forth as he moves it further and further down.

 

Clenching his teeth shut in order to hold in his moan, his muscles flex as he resists moving his hips to get closer to Cas’s hand.

 

Continuing his decent down with his finger, Cas moans and nips at Dean’s shoulder lightly when his finger encounters slick.

 

“You’re so wet,” Cas observes in a wrecked voice, trying to maintain control of himself.

 

Curling his legs higher and higher as Cas presses flush against him, a moan finally works its way past his lips unwillingly as Cas brushes past his rim.

 

“Shit,” he hisses as Cas circles it gently without pressing in, spreading his slick all around it as it continues to trickle out of him steadily. Minutely moving his hips backwards, Dean encourages him to slip the tip of his finger inside, biting his lip when he does.

 

Spreading his legs as much as he can on his side, Dean closes his eyes tight as Cas _slowly_ works one finger into his hole. Moving it gently back and forth before pushing it in deeper, Cas rubs along his insides at a snail’s pace, giving Dean more than enough time to acclimate.

 

Leaning backwards as Cas finds that spot on his neck that turns him to goo, he accidently pushes his hips down harder onto the finger inside of him, causing him to moan and try it again. Cas lets him, watches him and feels him as Dean thrusts his hips back and down to try and get Cas deeper.

 

Abruptly, Cas is pulling his finger out, but before Dean can complain, two wet fingers are being pressed inside him instead of one; twisting inside him, making him clench his ass around them as they touch something freak’in _magical._

 

“Cas,” he moans brokenly, fucking his hips back desperately to find it again.

 

“Shhh,” Cas whispers against his neck before biting it again.

 

Right where a mating mark would go.

 

“Fuckkkk,” he moans, panting as Cas finds that spot and narrows in on it again. With the two fingers scissoring inside him, hole fluttering around the intrusion, Cas finds his prostrate and rubs it, reducing Dean to a blubbering, incoherent mess.

 

Legs jerking up as he circles his hips back on to the man’s fingers, one hand automatically finds his dick as he gets close to the ledge, pumping it mindlessly. He hadn’t even been thinking about it this entire, too caught up in the pleasure of Cas fingering him to notice that he was about to come without any stimulation to his dick at all. He’d grabbed it because he was supposed to grab it. That was the way men came. The way he always had in the past.

 

Pulling out his fingers to circle his rim quickly, Cas pants against his neck, scenting him breathlessly as he slams both fingers ruthlessly back inside him. Nailing his prostate in the process. And Dean is coming. Ass clenching hard around Cas, Dean moans loudly as he frantically works himself onto his fingers over and over, spasming endlessly as Cas holds him tight and his vision goes blurry.

 

He continues to clench and unclench around Cas’s fingers, determined to drain every last ounce of pleasure he can get out of them after all those weeks of frustrations, and Cas doesn’t stop him. Doesn’t say anything as he presses wet, open mouthed kisses against his neck as Dean comes down from his first satisfying  orgasm in a long ass time.

 

But when Cas pulls his fingers out with a wet pop, Dean freezes, going tense all over as the last few minutes sink in. Panting now for an entirely different reason than pleasure now, panic sweeps over him suddenly.

 

What the fuck had he just done?! He’d almost let himself come just from fingers alone- just like a fucking _girl._ He’d been moaning for it, fucking himself on Cas’s thick fingers like a bitch in heat.

 

Gasping loudly, he untangles himself from the sheets to stumble out of bed. It’s pitch black, but he doesn’t give a fuck as he tries to find his way to the bathroom in the dark.

 

“Dean?” Cas asks from the bed, obviously alarmed and confused, “Are you alright?”

 

But he can’t talk. Can’t breathe. Running his hand desperately over the wall, he finally finds the door knob right when he hears Cas’s feet hit the floor. Throwing the door open, he barely steps through it before slamming it shut and locking it behind him. Slumping back against the solid wood, his breathing his coming in choked gasps now, unsteady and sharp as he feels the knob jiggle underneath his hand.

 

“Dean? Dean!” Cas calls frantically, “Open the door!”

 

But Cas’s voice fades away as his eyes find the tub. White, and pristine, it’s everything he wants to be, and everything he’s not. Stepping towards it slowly, all he wants is to be _clean._

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not going to lie, I'm going through a really big rough patch in my life right now. So kudos and comments are greatly appreciated! Love you guys, hope you're all excited for the season 11 premiere!


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol this was not how the chapter was supposed to go.... Awell. It has a ind of it's own. Haha hope you...enjoy;)

 

 

He’s almost to the tub when the sound of Cas’s voice cracking on his name stops him. His mind is still foggy after that little panic attack, but he can’t ignore the _pain_ in Cas’s voice. Stilling where he is, still blankly staring at the tub, he listens as the man’s voice slowly comes into focus again.

 

“Dean! _Please_ , open the door! Dean? _Dean!”_ Cas’s voice cracks on his name again, and he can hear a light thud against the door as Cas continues to fruitlessly twist the door knob.

 

“Please,” Cas whispers, still loud enough to be heard from behind the door. “Just tell me you’re okay.”

 

It makes his heart hurt to hear Cas sound like that. So upset, so _sad._ And he did that. Because he was stupid and fucking _weak_ and couldn’t control his fucking emotions. Closing his eyes and biting his lip, he slowly backs up until he can feel the door pressed against his back again. He can’t leave Cas hanging like that. It wasn’t Cas’s fault he was so fucked up. Still breathing hard, he looks longingly at the white tub.

 

“Cas,” he croaks, eyes still closed.

 

“Dean? I need you to talk to me,” Cas says loudly with an edge to his voice. “Are you okay? Can you open the door for me?”

 

Turning so he can press his forehead against the door, he shakes his head even though Cas can’t see it. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he gasps. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

 

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Cas says softly, and Dean can just imagine those big blue eyes trying to look deep into his soul, “Dean, let me help you, please. Open the door, beautiful.”

 

Dragging a hand slowly down the door, letting the solidness ground him, he shakes his head again. “I just need a minute.”

 

“No, Dean.” Cas says, sounding angry now, twisting the knob again as he continues to try and get in. “You do not need to spend another minute in that bathroom. The scent of your distress is overwhelming and debilitating. It’s not healthy for you or the pup to feel this distraught, and stewing in your own thoughts does not seem to be making you feel any better. I need to see for myself that you are alright.”

 

“I’m fine,” Dean mutters automatically, so used to telling himself that, that the lie comes easy to him now.

 

 But for the first time, he opens his eyes. Looking around the bathroom and finding his reflection in the mirror to his right, he looks anything but fine. His eyes are wide and fucking blown up in what looks like fear. And he looks fucking pale; all except for his cheeks, which still have a flush to them from his orgasm. Spine curled in defensively, unconsciously trying to protect his stomach, he looks like a fucking mess. The pup deserved better than that, and so did the Alpha on the other side of the door. All of a sudden, all he wanted in the world was to get back into Cas’s bed and let the sound of their quiet breathing and combined scents lull him back to sleep.

 

“If you are so fine, then prove it. Please. Just- just open the door Dean,” Cas sighs, sounding just as exhausted as Dean feels.

 

He’s not sure what makes him do it- the thought of his pup, the sound of Cas’s pain, or maybe it’s something in him that just craves comfort- but either way, he doesn’t think as he unlocks the door with shaking hands and opens the door.

 

Cas must have been leaning against the door just as he had, because he falls forward slightly before righting himself. All Dean sees is his bare feet though, since his eyes are trained on the floor; too ashamed, and too embarrassed to see the look on Cas’s face. He feels horribly insecure in this moment, and he itches to breath Cas in; his only reliable balm to all the darkness swirling around in his head.

 

Only, Cas’s scent isn’t what he thought it would be. It smells just as scared as him, with just as much desperation and anxiety thrown into the mix.

 

Immediately Cas is stepping forward and into his space, grabbing Dean’s face firmly on either side. Forcing Dean’s chin up to look him in the eyes. They’re wild in their worry, and Dean flinches from their intensity and tries to hide again. Cas isn’t having it.

 

“Stop Dean,” Cas says sternly, “Look at me.”

 

But he isn’t ready for that yet, so instead he closes his eyes and tries to take a deep breath. He obeys only after Cas’s grip has softened, and the Alpha is stroking the sides of his face instead of caging it in.

 

Cas’s eyes are still filled with concern when he hesitantly meets them again, but they aren’t so terrifying now as they regard him softly. Cas’s scent is still chaotic, still tinged with too many emotions to sort through, but he can tell the man is trying to appear calm- despite his hair going in every which direction, giving him the appearance of someone who just got electrocuted.

 

“Dean?” Cas asks quietly, “Can you tell me what happened? Did I do something to upset you?”

 

Shaking his head in frustration now that he’s finally calm enough to talk again, he reaches out to grip Cas’s t-shirt in both hands. “No, Cas. It’s not you.”

 

“Then what, Dean?” Cas asks brokenly, “I do not understand why you had the reaction you did.”

 

Blinking back stupid tears that threaten to spill over, he looks down at his hands to where he’s twisting the material of Cas’s shirt so he doesn’t have to see Cas’s eyes anymore. “I don’t know.”

 

Cas tilts his head up again. “You don’t know? Dean, I understand that you are obviously upset right now, but shutting me out is not the answer. You are not alone anymore Dean, and you don’t have to _be_ alone in anything you do. What just happened right now? That was not okay. I can’t handle you beating yourself up anymore, nor can I tolerate you running away from me. We’re a team, Dean. You hurt, I hurt.”

 

“That’s not what I want, Cas,” he groans, leaning into one of Cas’s palm. “You shouldn’t have to put up with my bullshit. I honest to god have no fucking clue what just happened back there, but something inside me _snapped._ And I don’t know if it’ll happen again. You deserve better.”

 

“Dean Winchester,” Cas says heatedly stepping forward and getting in his face, “You stop that self-deprecating nonsense right this instance. If this is a reoccurring problem, then we will deal with it. _Together._ And don’t you dare tell me what I deserve. You might have a low opinion of yourself, but I happen to think that you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

 

Dean recoils in shock, jerking his head back to stare incredulously at the other man. Cas just stares back calmly, not giving an inch.

 

“You,” he stutters, taking a step backwards to distance himself from Cas’s hands “You’re fucking crazy, man. You have no idea what you’re saying.”

 

“Think what you want. Nothing you say or do will change my opinion of you.”

 

A tear finally makes its way down his cheek, but his chest doesn’t hurt so much, doesn’t feel as heavy. If anything, Cas’s words make him feel lighter.

 

 Biting his lip, he only hesitates a second before he’s stepping forward and finding Cas’s lips desperately. The taste of Dean’s tears are mingled with the taste of _them_ , of _Dean and Cas_ , but they don’t detract from their kiss at all. More tears slip silently down his face as Cas pulls him close and rubs circles against his back. Wrapping his arms around Cas neck, their tongues tangle and caress between kisses, only pausing to breathe quietly into each other in the interim.

 

Pulling away and pressing his forehead against Dean’s, Cas sighs softly when he notices their scents have returned to normal. He’s not surprised when a moment later, Dean presses his face into his neck, scenting him, and nuzzling into his space.

 

“Dean,” he whispers, wrapping his arms around the Omega’s waist to press him closer. “You need rest. We have a long day ahead of us. It’s only around 5am, and we do not need to wake up until 10. I think it’s wise if we retire to bed once more.”

 

“Okay,” Dean mutters against Cas’s neck, reluctant to move now that Cas’s scent is back to it’s awesomness and he has unlimited access to it. But he lets himself be herded to bed anyway. Laying down first, before immediately finding Castiel again.

 

“Cas,” he whispers uncertainly against the man’s neck as he presses himself along Castiel’s side. He’s nervous, but determined. “There’s something I need to do.”

 

“What is it?” Cas mutters in the darkness.

 

But he can’t say the words. Actions did speak louder, he guessed. Biting his lip again, Dean places a hand over Cas’s chest, and _slowly_ moves it down. Cas is all hard lines and muscles- way too many for a fucking doctor- as his hand inches further and further to his destination. Puffing quietly against Cas’s neck, he stops his hand’s descent when it reaches Cas’s pajama pants, and Cas stops breathing.

 

Sliding one finger in the space beneath the material, Dean waits a beat at Cas’s shiver. Taking that as permission to continue, he lets his hand barely brush Cas’s quickly filling dick before Cas snaps out of whatever trance he was in and cover’s Dean’s hand with his own.

 

“Dean what are you doing?” Cas gasps, probably attempting to find Dean’s eyes in the early morning darkness with no success.

 

Steeling himself, trying to hold on to his determination, he squeezes Cas’s hand.

 

“I think it’s pretty obvious what I’m doing.”

 

“After what just happened, I do not think this is a go - ”

 

“That’s why I want to do this, Cas,” he interrupts. “To prove to myself that I _can._ If I can get over myself, maybe this won’t happen again….And I… uhh. I want to make you feel good,” he mutters self consciously, “Just like you did for me.”

 

“You don’t owe me anything, Dean,” Cas says softly. But he lets go of Dean’s hand all the same, bringing it up to guide Dean’s head close enough to brush their lips together in a barely there touch.

 

Sucking Cas’s bottom lip between both of his own, he lets his hand- now unrestrained- find Cas’s half hard dick again, stoking it with a single finger to the sound of Cas’s gasp.

 

Cupping his hand, he grips Cas loosely at it’s base, moving it up and down minutely, trying to coax Cas to hardness. Throwing a leg over one of Cas’s so that Dean is on his side, he presses kisses to the side of Cas’s neck as the man’s mouth opens and closes wordlessly.

 

When Cas is fully erect, Dean blanks for a second on what to do next. He’s never touched another dude’s cock before! All he had to go on was what he himself liked. How hard could it be? God, even his thoughts sounded dirty- there was no way he could back out now, especially with the way Cas was panting and clawing at the sheets.

 

Tightening his grip, he squeezed the tip tightly and spread precome with his thumb as it dragged over the slit.

 

“Dean,” Cas gasps, “If you do that again, I can guarantee that this will no last long.”

 

Smirking at Cas’s wrecked voice, he pulls his hand away to lick it quickly, ignoring the saltiness of it as he brings it back down to stroke Cas in earnest now; creating a wet channel he always tries to duplicate in the shower. Squeezing from the base to the tip as fast as he can now, he bites his lip to stifle his moan as Cas groans loudly into his hair and circles his hips into Dean’s hand.

 

Dean doesn’t get hard as he makes Cas fall apart, but it’s like he turned on a fucking faucet in his ass the way he’s leaking. Ignoring it for now as he pants right along with Cas, Dean steals Cas’s next breath with his lips as Cas’s mouth goes slack, warm come covering his hand completely as Cas’s knot expands and empties.

 

Gently stroking Cas through the after shocks, he realizes with no small amount of relief that he’d done it. His hand and his ass were a fucking mess, but as he presses his face into Cas’s shoulder to catch his breath, he feels decidedly… okay? There’s no fear, no anxiety, and he doesn’t feel like bolting as he feels Cas’s heart rate slowly become more normal.

 

Cas doesn’t say anything for a few minutes, just shifts so that the arm pinned underneath Dean can wrap around his waist, moving his fingers in circles against the side of Dean’s bump.

 

Tiredly slipping his hand back from underneath Cas’s now soiled pants, Dean groans as he holds his hand out in front of him, the light now trickling in enough to clearly illuminate the huge load of come coating his hand. Fucking Alphas. That was _not_ normal.

 

But Cas just chuckles quietly before shimming away from dean, despite Dean’s grumbling, in order to turn over and reach for something on his night-stand. When he rolls back over, he hands Dean a huge wad of tissues before cleaning himself off quickly. Rolling over onto his back, Dean wipes his hand clean as much as possible before slouching under the covers until only his head can be seen. Blushing the entire time, he closes his eyes as slips two tissues down the back of his pants to soak up some of the slick he feels plastering his pants to him like a second skin. He probably should have done this immediately after he’d come, alone in the bathroom, but he’d kinda been freaking out.

 

Now, when he pulls the tissues out, they’re more than a little wet. From his orgasm, and from getting Cas off. Gulping, he drops the tissues onto the floor without another glance. He’ll clean them up tomorrow. He’s too tired to get up now, and Cas seems to feel the same as he presses himself against Dean’s back, wrapping his arms around Dean’s stomach and kissing his shoulders.

 

“Are you okay?” Cas whispers hoarsely, continuing to stroke Dean’s stomach through his shirt. There was no kick back, the baby probably doing what they should’ve been doing, and sleeping.

 

“Yeah,” he whispers back, relaxing back into the Alpha and closing his eyes in exhaustion. Fuck it was early. And they had to go out in public later that day! Some people needed their beauty sleep, and he was definitely one of them; especially because coffee was no longer an option.

 

“Good,” Cas sighs. Pressing one more kiss to the back of Dean’s neck, Cas lays his head back onto the pillow they happen to be sharing, and falls silent.

 

Counting the other man’s measured breaths, he smiles to himself before he let’s his mind go blank, and darkness takes over.

 

 

 

 

This time when they wake up in almost exactly the same position as before, he doesn’t freak out. Because he’s not the only one getting a little too carried away in his sleep.

He might be moving his hips back into Cas, but this time, Cas is definitely thrusting his hips forward into him. Pushing his erection between the crease in his ass, Dean moans as Cas brushes closer and closer to his hole through his pants.

 

“Cas?” he pants, confusion and arousal fighting for dominance in his voice.

 

But Cas’s grip on Dean’s hips doesn’t loosen, and his thrusts don’t slow down at all. Jerking back and forth, not even trying to gain control of his hips, he clenches his eyes shut and bites his lip in pleasure. Holy shit, Cas felt so good.

 

Wiggling his hips a little, he raises one of his legs so that Cas has a better angle. Immediately slotting into the space Dean created, Cas bears down, scooting his hips down and in until the tip of Cas’s cock is nudging at his hole through the thin, soaked material.

 

“Cas,” he gasps, searching desperate for one of Cas’s hand as he grunts through the force of Cas’s thrusts. “Shit! Ahh- Cas!”

 

Finally finding the fingers firmly attached to his hips, he scrambles to grip them, squeezing them in desperation as Cas continues to hump him in his sleep. Digging his nails into the skin slightly when that doesn’t work, Cas grumbles something against his neck before freezing, hips and erection still pressed against him, but no longer moving.

 

“Dean- what the-?”

 

“Fuck man, I thought you’d never wake up,” he says hoarsely, patting Cas’s hand where he’d probably dug into the skin a little too hard.

 

Cas’s hips twitch in discomfort, probably due to how fucking hard he is, and the movement has Dean automatically clenching his cheeks together, squeezing Cas’s dick between them; unintentionally causing them both to moan breathily.

 

“Dean, I - ”

 

“I know,” he pants back, barely circling his hips backwards against his will. This is nothing like earlier. There is no guilt, no disgust, and for once, he doesn’t feel ashamed of what he’s doing.

 

This is Cas. And Cas would never hurt him.

 

Stilling Dean’s hips with his hands, Cas breathes hard into his ear, panting slightly even though they aren’t moving anymore.

 

“What do you want, Dean?” Cas asks him in a whisper. Cas’s scent is driving him absolutely insane, and he has to focus in order to string words together.

 

“This,” he decides throatily, “Just like this, Cas.”

 

Nodding, Cas nips the back of Dean’s neck and relaxes his hold on Dean’s hips; giving Dean permission to rub against him again as Cas hesitantly works his own against Dean’s backside.

 

While both their movements are awkward at first, sleep no longer claiming their inhibitions, the friction between them quickly has them nearing the desperation they’d gotten to before.

 

Opening his legs again slightly, Dean is ready for it this time when Cas’s cock nudges his opening. Throwing his head back, narrowly missing Cas’s nose in the process, he moans loudly before he can help himself.

 

“Fuck, Cas,” he pants, speeding up the rhythm his hips had set, forcing Cas to do the same in order for both of them to get the most pleasure. Cas is nailing his hole on every thrust now, using his hold on Dean’s hips to pull Dean back even harder into him.

 

“Dean, can I - ”

 

“Yes, “ he gasps, covering Cas’s hands with his own as Cas immediately shimmies Dean’s borrowed sleep pants down past his ass. Cas keeps his own pants on, but this way, there is one less layer obstructing Cas’s path to Dean’s soaking wet hole. He can feel it as Cas’s cock soaks it up, relentless as the slick covers it more and more with each thrust, making Cas just as wet as he is.

 

Plastering himself against Dean’s back and ass, both of them lose themselves as they work towards climax. Dean almost sobs when he comes, the tip of Cas’s clothed cock pressing inside him just enough to set him off; hips going crazy as he rides it out, setting off Cas not seconds after.

 

“Mmft,” he whimpers quietly as Cas bites his shoulder through his shirt.  Cas’s hips slow until they’re just pressing against each other again. Chest to back, panting, as they attempt to catch their breath.

 

“Holy shit,” Dean gasps.

 

Cas’s arms come around him again, and he pretends not to think they are there to keep him from running. He doesn’t want to run. He feels boneless and relaxed, and _relieved._ They didn’t need a repeat of his freak out from before.

 

“Are you alright?” Cas rasps.

 

Dean decides to go with humor over his feelings. “I just had two orgasms in one morning. Yeah, I think I’m alright.”

 

Snorting against Dean’s skin and tickling him with his scruff, Cas huffs, ”You know that’s not what I was referring to.”

 

“I know, I just don’t happen to care,” he replies smugly, melting back into Cas’s heat once more. God, he smelled good, he thinks as he closes his eyes to focus on it.

 

“Is that so?” Cas chuckles, tightening his arms around Dean.

 

“Mmhmm, living in the present, Cas.”

 

“Well, presently, we have forty five minutes to shower and eat before we need to leave for your appointment,” Cas says excitedly, “That way we can get there a tad bit early. There are a few people that have been dying to see you, Dean.”

 

“You told people about me?” he turns his head to meet Cas’s eyes in schock.

 

“Of course, Dean. You aren’t a secret, and my scent gave me away long before I’d mentioned your name. I didn’t want to lie to them. I hope I didn’t over-step?”

 

“No,” he says uncertainly, because he’s not sure how he feels about it. Now isn’t the time though to think on the boundaries of their odd relationship, though. Now it was time to shower and eat. Then he’d find out the sex of his pup. Holy _shit._ “I guess we’d better get moving then.”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your well-wishes and comments! I'm still feeling pretty low, every day a struggle, but your comments went a long way towards making me feel better. Love you guys, stay awesome!!!
> 
> -Mistakes are my own! It's fucking late right now and I could have been writing about my giant Teddy bear named Howard for all I know. I'll fix all of it eventually >:)


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a BITCH. I hope you enjoy the fruits of my labor.

 

 

Their hasty departure and even hastier breakfast(not to mention their morning activities) has him exhausted by the time he’s flopping into the passenger seat of Cas’s ugly ass Prius.

 

Cas had made him chug a bunch of water before allowing him to step out that door, and he feels it now as it sloshes noisily within. It’s a good thing he’s too tired right now to think about it, because there was nothing he could do about that now. And since Cas told him beforehand to wear something “comfortable” for the appointment, he has no problem slouching down in his seat and closing his eyes.

 

When Cas nudges him not two seconds later with that silly trench coat, he doesn’t argue. His long sleeve and sweat pants hadn’t been enough to keep out the chill, and as soon as he covers himself with the coat, he’s falling asleep no problem thanks in large part to Cas’s scent clinging to every single stitch of the fabric.

 

He feels like it’s seconds later when he feels a hand touching his face, his shoulder, jarring him from sleep and displacing his make-shift blanket in the process.

 

“Dean, we’re here.”

 

Sleepily blinking his eyes, confused as to where the fuck he is for a second, Cas comes into focus- staring at him with a soft look on his face that immediately has him straightening up and stretching groggily.

 

The pup. Cas’s friends. His freak’in _pup._

“Dean? Are you alright?” Cas asks cautiously, squeezing his shoulder once.

 

Snapping out of his trance, he finally turns to regard Cas. “What? Yeah, yeah I’m good, man. Let’s go.”

 

Shrugging out from underneath the creeper coat, he reaches for the door handle before pausing to look down at his stomach real quick. Without all his usual layers, the fact that he was pregnant was pretty freak’in obvious. His pudger wasn’t exactly a secret anymore as much as he wished otherwise, and Dean was pretty sure this would go down just like it had last time he was here; everyone staring at him, everyone _knowing._

 

But when Cas comes around the other side of the car to offer him a hand out, he can’t help but be grateful he isn’t alone this time.

 

The noticeable difference being when they walk through the sliding automatic doors. There’s just as much people, just as much chaos as the first time; and it immediately has Dean taking an automatic step behind Castiel, putting a barrier between everyone and his pup. Only it’s unnecessary.

 

If people are looking at him, they’re looking at Cas too, and if people are looking at them, they’re fucking _smiling._ Sappy eyes and dripping smiles- all directed at _him._

When Cas places a hand on his back to lead him toward the elevator, he passes dozens of faces that turn to look at him; glancing not so subtly between him and Cas, and no so subtly at his stomach. Meeting eyes with a few of them, he gets looks only puppies and children should ever be on the receiving end of, and smiles that clearly say ‘ _awww.’_

What. The. Hell.

 

Stupefied and somewhat scandalized, he follows Cas mindlessly to the elevator, and when the door closes on just the two of them, he breathes a reluctant sigh of relief and slumps against the wall slightly. He hadn’t realized he’d been dreading this visit to the hospital until now, and now that they’d passed the part with the most people, he felt like maybe he could handle the rest. Had to handle the rest, really.

 

Taking a step closer to him as the elevator starts it’s accent to the third floor, Cas places a hand against his lower back again. “I can scent your anxiety, Dean,” Cas says quietly, “Are you nervous? There’s no need to be.”

 

“I’m not nervous,” he lies defensively, crossing his arms over his chest, “I don’t exactly have fond memories of this place, or any other hospital for that matter.”

 

And that was putting it mildly. He tries not to remember his disastrous trip here the first time around, and he _can’t_ remember his trip home directly after. He’d been in such a state of panic and denial and _shock_ to even think straight. Being so sure that the results had been a mistake, the ground seemed to have crumbled beneath his feet when he’d realized just how wrong he’d been. And just how much of a fool he’d been as well.

 

Shaking his head at the dark thought, the baby must have liked them just as much as he did, because it kicks right when the elevator doors _ding_ to let them out. Smiling to himself, he rubs one hand over his side surreptitiously and hopes Cas won’t notice. Ever since he’d let Cas feel the pup move that first time, Cas had been just as addicted to the feeling as he was, and they didn’t need anymore distractions.

 

Catching Dean’s eye before they both step into the hallway, Dean catches a whiff of regret in the man’s scent.

 

“I apologize if my…behavior during your last appointment has soured your opinion of this establishment. While I can makes excuses for my actions, I won’t bother trying. Just know that I’ve never acted so unprofessionally in this career before, and I never plan to again. I very much hope that was a one time occasion.”

 

They’re still standing right outside the elevator, neither of them moving anymore as Cas looks at the floor, and now Cas’s scent isn’t the only one projecting regret.

 

“Cas,” he groans, “Stop being all guilty and shit, you’re making me feel like an asshole. I didn’t mean to put that on you, man. I’m pretty sure we both acted differently than we normally would, ‘cuz we’d both just gotten the shit shocked out of us. What’s done is done, yeah? Besides it wasn’t all that bad.”

 

He’s thinking of rubbing his belly again, but Cas would definitely notice this time.

 

Looking up slowly, Cas finally meets his eyes suspiciously. “You’re certain? You aren’t telling me things I want to hear just to ease my conscious?”

 

“Well… maybe just a little,” he concedes, smirking. “Nobody wants a grumpy Alpha as company now do they?”

 

Rolling his eyes at him, Cas steps forward to kiss the side of his head before starting down the hallway. “Come on, Dean. We’re running late as it is.”

 

Smirking still, he trails behind Cas as they arrive at the door still adorned with paper angels. He wants to ask where they came from, but before he can, Cas is opening the door and stepping through. Without his nice work clothes, Cas pretty much looks like any patient in the waiting room with his jeans and dark blue pullover.

 

Except unlike the formal and polite reception the usual patient would receive, he hears a chair scrape from somewhere behind the wall acting as a check-in station, and then the door separating the waiting room from the rooms beyond is being flung open and a flash of red is catapulting towards the Alpha.

 

A few of the patients seated around them share Dean’s look of surprise as the redhead pretty much tackles Castiel with a hug and starts talking a mile a minute as he returns her aggressive embrace like it’s nothing unusual. He doesn’t catch the first part but he for sure hears the important part.

 

“Everything is set for your trip this Friday so there should be no problem with - ”

 

“You’re leaving?” he interrupts, finally stepping out from behind the man so that he can see Cas’s face.

 

Cas looks up guiltily from the girl. “It’s only for the weekend, I was going to tell you - ”

 

“Dean!” the girl is struggling to get free of Cas’s loose hold before she’s throwing her arms a lot less aggressively around Dean. “You look amazeballs! I’m sorry I’m invading your personal bubble, I know you probably don’t remember me, but I’ve heard so much about you that I feel like we’re already best friends.”

 

“Dean,” Cas says, staring between the two of them with amusement as Dean’s eyes widen incredulously, “Charlie Bradbury. Charlie, you obviously remember Dean.”

 

Stepping back to smile up at him cheekily, she says, “Remember the time I held your pee? You were there, and I was there, good times…. Gooood times.”

 

Staring at Charlie critically for a second, he does remember her.

 

“Your Highness?” he says uncertainly, tilting his head to the side a bit.

 

Apparently it was the right thing to say, because a brilliant smile lights up her face as she curtsies on the spot. “In the flesh.”

 

“You’re pretty young to hold such a position of prestige don’t you think?” he jokes.

 

“Young?” she scoffs. “Age has nothing to do with awesomeness, Hand-maiden!”

 

“Celeste! That’s enough now, you leave that boy alone,” comes a sweet voice from behind the wall. He definitely remembers that voice.

 

Charlie smiles a little as she puts her head down, chastised. “Sorry Missouri,” she sing-songs.

 

“Yeah, you sound it,” she says sarcastically, “Dean, sweetheart, why don’t you come chat with me a minute while those two knuckleheads go over a few details? I could use the company.”

 

Looking quickly at Cas who’d been watching his exchange with his co-workers silently, he bites his lip nervously when Cas nods his head encouragingly and moves to open the door for him. Having no other choice now, he glares at Cas before walking further into the room. Missouri is behind a partition this time instead of the reception desk, and she smiles at him from where she’s sitting and gestures to the chair next to her.

 

“Come on honey, let me have a look at you. I won’t bite, I promise,” she croons softly, patting the chair twice and smiling at him expectantly. He hears the door close behind him signaling Cas leaving, so he does as he’s told and hesitantly takes a seat.

 

“Hello Dean,” she leans forward to pat his hand, before leaning back to take him in. “I’ve been waiting a long time to talk to you again, sugar. A long time. I must admit you had me worried after the first time we’d met. I’m glad to see you look’in so good.”

 

Meeting her dark brown eyes, he can’t help being a little touched by the genuine concern coming from a virtual stranger. He doesn’t know what it is about her, but the comfort coming off of the beta in front of him makes Dean feel like he’s known her his entire life. So there shouldn’t be a problem with asking her something that had bugged him on and off again for months.

 

“Can I ask you,” he starts before pausing, looking down at his hands in his lap, “Can I ask how you knew? I barely said a word to you, yet you’d looked like you’d been expecting it when you saw the checked box on my paperwork. That’s never happened before. Well…before all this,” he corrects himself, rolling his eyes.

 

Everyone knew now.

 

She looks at him sadly, and again, he gets the feeling he’s two seconds away from being hugged.

 

“It was real subtle, but I knew the second you walked through the door,” Missouri says slowly. “It was the way you held yourself. You looked like you were just waitin’ for someone to come along and kick you when you were down. And those eyes…” she looks haunted for a second before she collected herself, “Those eyes were filled with too much, Dean. Pain, desperation, insecurity, you name it. I just… had a feel’in.”

 

“You knew that soon?” he deflates, not for the first time regretting how much of himself he’d sacrificed for the charade he’d been pulling for all that time.

 

“But that’s not the only thing I knew,” she takes his hand again, this time keeping it there as she caught his eye. “I knew right away, without a question, that you were something special. I didn’t know how, but now I see that I was right,” she finishes with a smug smile.

 

“What do you mean?” he asks in honest confusion. As far as he could tell, there wasn’t a single thing special about him.

 

“Dean, you musta noticed you aren’t the only one lookin a thousand times better compared to the day I saw you last. You’ve breathed new life into that man out there, honey. That’s another reason I wanted to talk with you,” she says seriously, “I wanted to thank you from the bottom of my heart. In all the time I’ve known Castiel, I’ve never seen him so happy.”

 

There must be some kind of misunderstanding. “I don’t think I - ”

 

“Just wait a minute, Dean,” she cuts in softly, “Let me say my peace and then you can try unsuccessfully to talk yourself down. You oughtta hear this…I’ve known Castiel for some years now. And in all the time that I’ve known him, he ain’t _never_ taken it easy. The man pretty much lived here. Work’in long hours, then volunteering his time to different departments afterwards, there were some days I was certain he didn’t even _try_ to go home in between. He was running himself ragged, and I was afraid he’d been alone for far too long, Dean. Clearly, no one was look’in after him.”

 

She squeezes his hand when he frowns. The Cas she was describing didn’t sound like his Cas now. He knew Cas was dedicated to his job, but any second of free time the Alpha was at his apartment.

 

“What about his brothers?”

 

A dark look passes over her features. “That’s not what I meant when I said no one look’in after him. Gabriel is a kind man, but those other two…It came as no surprise when the news of Luke’s death circulated. It destroyed Castiel, but for a long time before that, they had their issues. Luke had a problem. It was rare when he could think clearly enough to remember he had a brother, but when he did, he never failed to beg money from his youngest one. And I know it killed Castiel to deny him, but enabling his brother’s addiction was never an option.

 

I know Castiel doesn’t like to talk about it but- I’m certain Luke’s death was the catalyst that drove him from his normal routine of work’in himself to death. I can still see his face- clear as day- when he said not to expect him for a few days. That Alpha don’t express emotion like most would, and I thought for sure he was just going to shut down completely. And then you happened,” she smiles sweetly.

 

“Jesus Christ- he told you about that?!” he blurts loudly. He hears the low murmurs die down on the other side of the wall for a second, but the blush staining his cheeks definitely came from their conversation rather than their possible audience.

 

Slapping his hand lightly, Missouri rolls her eyes at him and huffs. “Dean Winchester do you take me for a fool? It don’t take a genius to figure out that one plus one equals three,” she nods at his belly, then softens. “He doesn’t have many friends, sweetheart. It’s just us; me, Celeste, and the others who work in the hospital. We care for each other, and that’s how I know how much you’ve changed him. I know you heard mention of his trip this weekend. Any other time before you, he woulda been gung ho, packed his bags and been the first one to arrive at the conference. Now? Do you know he’s spent the last two weeks searchin for someone to go in his stead? That’s probably why he’d put off tell’in you…You may not have met in the best of circumstances, but I think you made the best of it.”

 

Biting his lip, he turns away from her intense scrutiny. For some reason his heart is pounding away in his chest at her words, and he’s afraid she’ll somehow be able to read that on his face.

 

“You don’t understand,” he mutters finally. “You don’t even know the whole story.”

 

“And I don’t have to,” she says firmly. “I know just enough to know that the two of you- now three,” she chuckles shaking her head, “are going to be okay. I have faith in you, and you should too.”

 

A light knock on the door has the two of them looking over in time for Cas to poke his head through the door. He looks between the two of them cautiously before stepping all the way in and making his way towards Dean.

 

Coming to stand directly behind his chair, he leans down to speak quietly in Dean’s ear, laying a warm hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but if we want to make it to your appointment on time, we should be leaving soon.”

 

Craning his neck to stare into those blue eyes that had been wreaking havoc on his emotions from day one, he realizes he’d momentarily forgotten their purpose for being here. Tearing his eyes away from Cas, he turns to see Missouri smiling at the two of them knowingly.

 

“We were just wrapping up actually,” she says as she stands, “I know you got more important things to do then chat with little ole’ me, but if you ever need anything, anything at all, you let me know alright?”

 

When Dean just nods, too overwhelmed by the woman’s kindness to respond verbally, she opens her arms and he finds himself unconsciously standing and stepping into them. Gulping past a suddenly dry throat as he embraces Missouri, he’s not surprised one bit when the baby kicks between them.

 

“Go on now the both of you,” Missouri says, stepping back. She pats his shoulder once more before making a shooing motion and sitting down again. “You take care boys, and you better let me know the results of your appointment if you know what’s good for you!”

 

“Of course, Missouri. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Cas tells her.

 

As they head out of Cas’s office, Dean hooks a pinky around one of Cas’s.

 

The other man smiles but doesn’t ask what he and Missouri talked about.

 

 

 

After they fill out a shit load of paperwork in an office on the opposite side of the hospital from where Cas works, they’re led by a nurse into a dark room with a bunch of intimidating looking medical equipment.

 

The nurse seems to recognize Cas and she looks curiously between the two of them. Before she’d noticed Dean, he could have sworn he’d caught her giving Cas the once over he himself had patented.

 

“Pamela should be right with you, Castiel,” she says in an annoyingly high pitched voice.

 

Glaring at her retreating back, Dean mutters, “It’s not like he’s the one who’s fucking pregnant,” under his breath, and Cas looks at him curiously.

 

Shaking his head, he doesn’t try to explain. There’s a paper-covered reclining seat that’s obviously for patients, so stomps over to it and plops down unceremoniously. He has to pee, he’s hungry, and he really didn’t like that nurse.

 

“What’s wrong, Dean?” Cas asks, following him over to the chair and standing in front of him.

 

“It’s nothing,” he grumbles, looking away.

 

Fingers combing gently through his hair have him reluctantly turning back to look up at Cas though.

 

“Why don’t you lie back? You’ll have to in a minute anyway. Relax, Dean,” Cas soothes, now lightly massaging his scalp like he knows he likes.

 

Fucking cheater.

 

Closing his eyes and rolling his shoulders back twice, he tries to focus on Cas’s scent along with his fingers; lets it drain away all his pent up energy and anxiety that had been building up since last night. Last night seemed forever ago, but it also felt like it had gone by in a blink of an eye. Just like with everything up to this point, he didn’t feel mentally prepared for this.

 

“Come on beautiful, lay back,” Cas whispers.

 

This time he complies, slowly bringing his legs up and letting the Alpha guide him onto his back. But instead of relaxing like his body wants to in Cas’s presence, he turns on his side to watch as Cas drags another chair close and takes a seat.

 

“Why do you call me that?”

 

The question has him flushed again, but figuring it’s dark, he hopes Cas wouldn’t notice.

 

Cas blinks at him, obviously surprised by the question. “Why do I call you beautiful?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Because that’s what you are,” he says plainly, “If I had to describe you with one word, that is the word I would choose. Internally, externally, every single part of you is beautiful.”

 

“Oh,” is all he can say before the door is opening and a woman he would _definitely_ rate a seven or eight on his hotness scale walks though. Even with her shape masked by her black scrubs, it’s obvious this woman is freak’in attractive.

 

“Hey there, you must be Doctor Castiel’s elusive new mate. It’s good to finally meet you,” she says, offering Dean her hand. So subtly he’s sure Cas misses it, she winks and nods toward Cas conspiratorially.

 

“Pamela,” Cas splutters, “we aren’t ma- ”

 

“He only wishes,” Dean smirk, playing along as he takes her hand firmly in his. “It’s Dean though, if you’re asking. Nice to meet you.”

 

“Likewise. Castiel, you better be careful, this one’s a stunner. I don’t know how you managed to keep him all for yourself this long.”

 

Laughing at Pamela’s obvious attempt to bait the Alpha, he’s unsurprised when Cas rolls his eyes.

 

“I’ve tried to convince him that you are good at what you do, but your endless flirtation fails to instill much confidence in your abilities, I’m afraid.”

 

“Oh shush grumpy,” she smirks, “Dean and I were just having a little fun. Now down to business. We got a pup to check out, don’t we?” she says, smiling sweetly down at Dean.

 

“We do,” Dean smiles back. But he’s mostly smiling at the look he can feel Cas aiming at him.

 

“Great. I’m going to have you turn over on to your back,” she tells him, watching as he obeys, “and you don’t have to take off your shirt, but I am going to ask you to pull it up as much as possible so it doesn’t get in the way or get gel on it. You might want to undo the top of your pants as well.”

 

 _Fuck_ \- this was happening. Nobody had seen his stomach except Cas, and not only was she going to see it, she was going to _touch_ it as well.

 

Placing a finger over Dean’s lip when he automatically bites at it, Cas leans into him quickly as Pamela moves around the room, retrieving different things she’s probably going to need for the ultrasound. Taking a deep breath as Cas presses a kiss against his forehead, Dean scents him one last time before revealing his belly to the chilled room.

 

He feels naked on his back, stomach exposed. Only Cas’s presence next to him keeps him from bolting.

 

“Alrighty then, let’s get started.” Pamela says, coming back to Dean’s side with a bottle held in one hand. “I’m going to squirt this gel on to your stomach, okay? It’s going to help the probe get a clearer picture of the fetus so I can tell you what’s going on. It might be a little cold,” she warns before tipping the bottle and squeezing the goop liberally across his stomach.

 

“Okay Dean, now I’m going to use this transducer here for a few measurements and images. It’s perfectly harmless. I’m going to need you to stay as still as possible though, alright?”

 

“Okay,” he murmurs. That won’t be a problem since he’s basically frozen, almost too scared to breath.

 

Smiling at him one more time, Pamela presses the long instrument gently against the top of his stomach before pressing it down more firmly, holding it there a second, and then moving it in a small circle. She switches on a machine or a button or something, and suddenly there’s a static noise coming from close by, and she’s adjusting a large screen for him to see a grainy black and white image.

 

“Let me see if I can…” she mutters under her breath, moving the wand down his belly and _pressing_. Shit, he really needed to fucking pee!

 

He forgets all about it when a noise fills the room. He can hear Cas gasp quietly next to him, but everything goes silent except for the thrumming now echoing in his ears. Mouth dropping open in awe and tears springing unbidden to his eyes, he stares incredulously at Pamela, desperate for her to explain what’s happening even though he’s pretty sure he already knows.

 

“There we go, that’s your baby’s heartbeat,” she finally says.

 

At her confirmation, he tries to breathe through his nose as his eyes threaten to spill over. That’s his pup. His pup was alive and well inside him. That sound- the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard- was his baby’s _heartbeat._

“Holy shit,” he breathes. Fingers brush his hair again as Cas wordlessly agrees, wiping away an errant tear that escaped down Dean’s cheek, both of their eyes glued to the screen in front of them.

 

“See that thing moving right there,” she points at the screen with her free hand, “You can _see_ the pup’s heartbeat as well. The normal heart rate for a baby tends to be 150 to 175 per minute, so we’re right on track. A little slow, but definitely in range. But it’s a nice, normal heartbeat, nice and strong,” she assures the two wide-eyed men with a smile. First time parents always needed the most reassurances, and she knew these two were no exceptions. Judging by their combined scents, she wondered if they were even hearing her through all that joy.

 

Hearing the click-clack of buttons being pushed or typed or whatever, another image takes shape on the screen as Dean watches with dumbfounded eyes.

 

“There’s the head right there.”

 

“Oh my god, it’s so big,” Dean gasps, trying his best to lie still but wanting nothing more than to get as close as possible to the screen showing his baby. “Is it supposed to be that big?” he asks desperately.

 

“It looks like you’re about 18 weeks along, so yes, the development of the fetus is right on track,” Pamela says, clearly amused. She clicks something on the screen, then types something in. “By measuring the fetal skull, the abdomen, and the long bone, I can get a pretty good estimate on how far along, and your rough due date.”

 

“Yeah?” he asks, excited. Everything was so much more real now.

 

“Yeah,” Pamela laughs, “Since you’re 18 weeks… I’d say earliest? Around March 26th. Latest? Around April 9th. It’s hard to read sometimes with male Omegas since it’s impossible to factor in if both your bodies are ready for birth. But that’s your timeline. Learn it, love it, plan for it boys, it’ll come sooner than you think.”

 

“We already love it,” Cas says softly, catching Dean’s attention for a second as he looks over at the Alpha.

 

He’d been mostly silent the entire appointment, choosing to listen closely and watch, but now Dean really looks at him. Almost leaning over Dean to get a clear view of the screen, Cas is looking between Dean and their child with glassy eyes and a watery smile, clenching his fists hard in his lap like he’s trying to keep himself together.

 

God, he was about to do say something he’d never _ever_ thought he’d say in his entire life…

 

“Pam? Is it alright if I hold his hand?” he asks quietly.

 

Cas’s head jerks to stare at him, stunned, but he’s watching Pamela.

 

“Of course, sweetheart, be my guest,” she smiles softly but doesn’t take her eyes off the screen or stop the gentle circles she’s making with the wand.

 

He tries to do the same as he raises his hand in invitation, waiting expectantly for Cas to move his chair to accommodate his prone position. But when nothing happens and he turns to see what the deal is, Cas is looking at him like he hung the fucking moon and then rescued a baby kitten from a tree or some shit. The pure _adoration_ dripping of the man’s scent has him blushing and sets his heart racing at the same time. And not to mention wakes up a certain part of his anatomy he’d thought he’s sated earlier this morning…

 

“Dammit, Cas,” he grumbles in embarrassment, “Can you not make this weird? Just hold my fucking hand and be a man about it.”

 

Pamela snickers quietly and Cas finally moves; dragging his chair further down so that Dean’s hand can rest comfortably against the cool leather of the chair as their fingers intertwine. He’s afraid to look with his cheeks and neck still flushed, but he’s pretty sure Cas is smiling.

 

“Alright guys, look. There’s your pup,” Pamela says, regaining their attention as she presses the wand directly over the middle of his stomach.

 

Dean’s not sure who’s squeezing whose fingers, but suddenly the grip between them is a hellova lot tighter as the little shape on the screen fidgets slightly.

 

“Is that a foot?” Cas gasps.

 

“Is that fingers?!”

 

“Yep,” Pamela says calms, pointing first to the right and then to the left as she explains, “There’s a little foot right there, and those are the fingers- look! You can see a thumb sticking up if you look real closely.”

 

Although it still looks a little alien-like, it’s nothing compared to what he thought it would be, what he’d come in here expecting. The thing on the screen was clearly a baby. Curled up tight in a little ball, his baby looked so tiny and fragile. That was inside him! Turning to see Cas’s expression quickly, he realizes they’re wearing almost identical grins.

 

“Did you want to know what you’re having?”

 

“Yes!” they both exclaim at the same time. Wasn’t that the whole point of this thing?

 

She laughs and shakes her head at their quick answer, then turns to squint at the screen, clicking something to enlarge the image. Pressing the wand harder to his stomach, Dean gasps as the urge to pee makes itself known again. His bladder would just have to hold it’s fucking horses. They were about to fucking _know-_

Slowly looking up from the monitor to meet first Dean’s eyes then Cas’s, she looks seriously at them before smiling smugly.

“Well…I think you have a shy one on your hands fellas. Those legs are firmly crossed right now, and I can’t see genitalia with its pelvis in that position.”

 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Dean groans. “Not even born yet, and the kid’s already trouble.”

 

“There’s nothing you can do to get a clearer image?” Cas asks, disheartened but not altogether shocked. He knew this happened sometimes.

 

But fifteen minutes later yielded no results other than the testing of his bladder and his patience. The kid must’ve inherited his stubbornness, cuz’ it was obviously determined to be yet another surprise just waiting around the corner to shock the shit out of him when he least expected it. Of course.

 

“On the bright side, the heart, brain, and lungs are look’in good. Very healthy.” Pamela tells them, “How about I give you a little time to get cleaned up while I go get you guys a little memento? I’ll be right back!”

 

She leaves as Dean sits up, and Cas is immediately helping to brace his back and wipe off the gel from his stomach with a wet rag Pamela had handed him. As Cas gently cleans him up, Dean can’t help but laugh a little and shake his head.

 

“What?”

 

Pushing Cas’s hands away when he’s clean enough, he pulls his shirt down again. “Our luck, man. Seriously,” but he looks down fondly at his belly, “I don’t think you’re shy at all, little pudge. Nope, I think you couldn’t resist messing with your daddies, huh?” he croons.

 

Castiel’s heart melts at the scene in front of him and at Dean’s words. His chest is so full, so heavy, he feels it might burst. He’s not complaining. He’d never thought he _could_ feel this much, but now that he has, he’s afraid it might slip away.

 

Standing up, he cradles Dean’s jaw between his hands and kisses him with all the emotions he wishes he could express. All the things he knew he felt, but knew Dean wasn’t ready to hear.

 

They have time, he thinks as he pulls away to rest his forehead against Dean’s, both closing their eyes and taking in each other’s scents. They had all the time in the world.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took certain liberties with this chapter, so I hope I didn't upset people too much! 
> 
> Love you guys, thanks for all your encouragements and thoughtful comments! Hope none of ya'll are too pissed about my little twist in this chapter! Hahaha did you really think I'd let you guys off that easy? I DON'T THINK SO! >:D


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone going to Pascon next week?! I'm so fucking excited.

 

 

There was no a reason a single picture should feel like it weighs a hundred pounds, he thought as he stared at the little black and white photograph he was holding, balanced on his knee while the world moved fast outside the car window.

 

But it did. It felt heavy. With responsibility, with worry and stress, with a strange sense of happiness, and with…love? Was he really in love with the little thing inside him, the little person he could clearly see for the first time in the picture in front of him?

 

He knew the answer was yes even if he wasn’t ready to admit it to himself. He didn’t know when or how it had happened, but he’d fallen fast, and he’d fallen _hard._ Being able to see the person he created had only cemented that love he’d begun to feel creeping up on him in the moments leading up to today. Every time the pup kicked or shifted he’d just feel… fucking _happy._

 

The pup made him happy.

 

And that scared the shit out of him.

 

They were only really at the halfway point, and anything could happen. And knowing him, something _would_ happen, because it was a known fact that universe had a vendetta against him. He wouldn’t be able to handle it if something hurt his-

 

“Dean?” Cas pulls him out of his musings.

 

After Dean had _finally_ gone pee, and Pamela had given them the photo he was currently obsessing over, they’d left the hospital and were now driving god knows where. He could honestly say he had no idea where they were, where they were headed, or how long he’d been sitting, speechless, in the passenger seat.

 

What?” he says, blinking over at him quickly before returning his eyes to the photo.

 

“I know you’re tired, but your stomach has been growling for the past twenty minutes,” he says, keeping his eyes fixed on the road. “Do you mind if we stop? I have a place in mind…”

 

“Yeah, sure man, whatever,” he replies, still distracted. But he doesn’t try tearing his eyes away from the little fingers he can barely see sticking up. Or the tiny toes curled down in order to tuck themselves tighter into a little ball.

 

Tentatively, Castiel takes one hand off the wheel to blindly feel around for Dean’s hand. There’s an overwhelming range of emotions coming from the man’s scent, and he knows that Dean must be confused and probably a little(a lot) bit scared. Trying unsuccessfully to locate Dean’s hand while refusing to look away from the road, he can almost feel Dean’s eye roll as he huffs and connects their fingers for him.

 

“Guess this hand holding shit is gonna be a thing now,” Dean mutters darkly under his breath. But Castiel just squeezes his fingers.

 

“You know the pup won’t disappear if you look away from the photograph, right?” Castiel asks softly.

 

“Well obviously. It’s just that- I don’t know. It’s stupid…” Dean trails off.

 

“I can assure you that whatever you say will not be stupid, Dean.”

 

Chucking slightly at how serious Cas is, he shakes his head, finally looking away from the tiny square he knew he’d be keeping forever.

 

“I just… feel so unprepared. Like the pup isn’t gonna wait for us to get our shit together, and we don’t really have a lot of time. I mean, look at it!” he says, shaking the picture a tad bit desperately, “It’s already trying to be a person! It has fingers and toes and a brain! I feel like everything is going so fucking fast and we don’t even have a foot in the door!”

 

“Dean,” Cas soothes, rubbing his thumb in circles against Dean’s knuckles, “This is normal. Every parent feels unprepared before the birth of their child.”

 

“This unprepared though?” he asks incredulously, “Cuz’ I don’t really think we have a leg to stand on. We’re two dudes! We’re not equipped to deal with a fucking baby!”

 

“Then we’ll have to change that,” Cas says firmly. “We’ll start now. Going forward, we can start preparing ourselves. We’ll take it day by day, Dean. Together.”

 

“How bout when you leave for secret business trips that you’ve failed to mention? Hmm? How about then?” Dean snaps without thinking. He doesn’t sound angry though. If anything, he sounds like he’s fucking sulking.

 

Which he’s not, obviously.

 

“I was going to tell you,” Cas sighs as he comes to a stop at a red light, finally turning to look quickly at Dean. “I was just hoping to get out of it. That’s why I was putting it off, in case I found a replacement, rendering it unnecessary to inform you in the first place. But unfortunately, that wasn’t the case.”

 

Dean looks out the window instead of answering, so Cas squeezes his fingers to regain his attention.

 

“It’s only for a few days, Dean,” Cas says softly. “I’ll be back so quick, you won’t have time to miss me,” he teases, smiling when Dean splutters indignantly.

 

“I’m not going to miss you, dude!” Dean defends himself quickly.

 

“Okay, Dean. Whatever you say,” Cas smirks.

 

“I’m not,” Dean insists, “Like you said, it’s only going to be for a few days right? It’s not like I’m gonna cry myself to sleep every night or count the seconds your gone,” he jokes, rolling his eyes.

 

He knows he’s pretty pathetic, but he’s not _that_ pathetic.

 

Cas smiles and shakes his head at him, but he doesn’t call him out, and he doesn’t let go of Dean’s hand the entire drive to the restaurant.

 

By the time they pull into a large restaurant called _Levati Gai Coglioni Ristorante_ , he’s starving and he’s starting to feel just a little self-conscience.

 

“Dude, are you sure I’m allowed to wear sweat pants here? It looks kind of nice…” he leaves off, unsure of himself.

 

And the sweat pants weren’t the only issue. He’d worn what he’d worn because Cas had told him to dress comfortably for the ultrasound. The way he was currently dressed though left nothing to the imagination with regards to his pregnancy. Yes, logically, he had known people would be able to see him as he dressed this morning, but he hadn’t figured there’d be so many.

 

Taking his hand back from Cas, he smoothes down both hands over his stomach like he could make his bump smaller with just a touch. If he was big now, he couldn’t imagine how enormous he’d be in a few months…

 

“Dean,” Cas says, reaching over to turn Dean chin towards him with a single finger, not liking the anxiety coming from Dean one bit. “You can wear whatever you like, and no one will judge you. Especially here,” Castiel assures him, smiling when Dean squints at him in confusion. “Come on, you’ll see. Let’s go inside.”

 

Dean sighs in exasperation but reaches for the door handle anyway. Cas had better be right, because he could eat a horse right about now, and the kid was dancing on his bladder again already. How was it only time for lunch? He felt like it was time to go to fucking sleep already.

 

Following closely behind Cas, he’s tempted to grab Cas’s hand again to have something to hold on to, but he refrains. Cas would probably think he’s nervous or some shit, and that wasn’t true.  He just wasn’t comfortable in public yet. He guessed now was a good a time as any to get used to it though, since he’d only be getting bigger from here. And that wasn’t even factoring in his scent.

 

But when they walk in to the little welcome area at the front of the restaurant, all eyes in the immediate vicinity go directly to Cas. Some people smile, but most of the workers Dean can see straighten up and focus more diligently on whatever they were working on.

 

The lady behind the podium waiting to seat people smirks at them. But mostly at Cas.

 

“The usual, Clarence?” she asks in a hoarse voice, raising one eyebrow at him in question. Her eyes continue to rake up and down Cas’s body though in obvious flirtation, and Dean automatically doesn’t like her. Especially because it’s obvious they know each other if the stupid little nickname was anything to go by.

 

The dress code here is obviously all black, but he has to wonder who gave this bitch permission to wear the black button down shirt she was dawning unbuttoned enough to see a hint of the black lace bra she was wearing underneath.

 

“Not today, Meg,” Cas says to her, “Is there a table for three available instead?”

 

“For you?” she simpers, “Anything. Right this way, gentlemen.”

 

This time, when he follows Cas, he doesn’t hesitate to take the man’s hand. He doesn’t know what possesses him to do it, but the look on her smug little face when she turns around to show them their table makes it worth it. Smiling slightly as she frowns at him, he looks directly at her as Cas pulls out his chair for him, and waits until Dean is seated to sit himself.

 

“Your server will be right with you, Castiel,” she says, trying to catch his eyes once more before she leaves. But Cas is too busy smirking over at Dean to notice.

 

“What?” Dean asks defensively when she’s gone.

 

“Nothing,” Castiel says, but secretly, he finds Dean’s jealousy endlessly amusing. He’d seen it today when Hester had led them into the room where they’d be doing the ultrasound, and just right now with Meg.

 

In all honesty, it was probably all the hormones from the pregnancy, usually causing territorial and protective feels front and center, but the reasoning behind it wouldn’t matter to Dean if he brought it up. He would probably freak out, or be horribly embarrassed, so it was best to keep his amusement to himself. It’s not like Dean had an actual reason to be jealous. Meg had always had a thing for him, but it was harmless. Even before Dean he hadn’t been interested. But now? He’d never seen another human being that could compare to the man sitting next to him.

 

“This is where I pick up a lot of your food, actually,” Castiel tells him, smiling as he looks around. “The Italian place you like so much? The one that makes fresh pies?”

 

“Pie?” Dean perks up, forgetting he’s pissed for a second in light of pie. But the motion of him sitting up reminds him that he needs to get to the bathroom, like asap.

 

“Where’s the bathroom?” he asks desperately after he scans the large room with no success.

 

“It’s out the way we came, to the left. Do you want me to go with you?” Cas asks, eyes wide and sincere as he watches Dean stand hurriedly.

 

“To the bathroom, dude?” he laughs. “No. I’ll be right back. You better get us some bread sticks though, cuz’ otherwise I got dibs on eating your arm.”

 

But when he comes back a few minutes later and sees a short man talking to Cas, his back to him, he finally remembers that Cas had asked for a table of _three._ Not two. He’d been so caught up in thinking daggers at the freak’in waitress he hadn’t even noticed Cas’s addition to their little party.

 

Squinting critically at the man’s back, he approaches cautiously, only relaxing somewhat as he sees Cas smile at the man in an obviously familiar way.

 

“So where is the poor son of a bitch, Cassie? Or is this like your “girlfriend” in sixth grade? I knew she sounded too good to be true-” he’s saying, voice high and reedy as he chuckles- until Cas sees Dean.

 

“Dean,” he says, obviously relieved to have an out, standing as Dean hesitates.

 

The stranger turns to look at Dean as he hears him behind him and golden eyes widen in shock as they take in Dean’s belly.

 

“Holy shit, little bro,” he gawks, eyebrows receding comically into his hairline, “You didn’t say anything about a bun in the oven.”

 

“Uhh, Cas?” Dean asks, torn between offering the dude his hand or covering as much of his stomach as possible with both of them.

 

“Dean, this is my older brother Gabriel. Gabriel, this is who I’ve been talking about. This is Dean.”

 

Gabriel lets out a low whistle as he looks back and forth between the two of them. “My, my, my. Well, I have to tell you Dean, you are _way_ out of my baby brother’s league. Hot little Omega like you? Damn baby bird, you did _good,_ ” he smirks, finally offering Dean his hand.

 

But as soon as he lets it go, he’s leaning away from Dean and towards Cas, whispering obnoxiously, “The pup is _yours_ right?”

 

“Dude,” Dean groans, covering his face with his palm as his cheeks turn red.

 

“Whaaat? It’s a fair question!”

 

Cas rolls his eyes at the man before shoving him lightly and stepping to pull out Dean’s chair again. “Sit,” he ushers him, giving Dean an exasperated look as he hesitates again.

 

“Oh come on,” Gabriel says, “Sit. You’re obviously stessin’ Cassie out.”

 

“Are you sure it’s me stressing him out?” Dean grumbles but relents as he sits and lets Cas push his seat into the table slightly. Cas takes the seat right next to him instead of the chair across from him like before, and he can’t say he’s complaining as he gets a whiff of Cas’s scent. It smells… happy?

 

“Behave yourself, Gabriel,” Cas warns, “I would like for you and Dean to get acquainted, but I will not stand for your rudeness. Especially towards Dean.”

 

Gabriel raises his hands in surrender, but still has a spark of mischief in his eyes as he takes the only available seat. “Alright, alright, I’ll play nice. Still want my question answered though. And I’d like to ask ummm… why the HELL you didn’t tell me before?!”

 

“When? During all the times you’ve come to visit me?” Cas challenges, “Or how about all the times you _didn’t_ think to call me back?”

 

Dean sits back in his chair and grabs a breadstick that must’ve been brought out while he was in the bathroom, content to watch the brothers bicker as long as he’s no longer the topic of conversation. Gabriel kinda seemed like a douche bag, but if this was the “kind” brother as Missouri had said, then he was not looking forward to meeting the other one. Hopefully he didn’t need to.

 

Gabriel frowns regretfully at his brother. “I _am_ sorry about that. This place keeps me busy as hell. But I definitely would have set some time aside if you’d told me there was a freak’in _kid_ on the way!...it is yours right?”

 

“Fuck you, man,” Dean finally mutters. “Of course it’s Cas’s.”

 

“Ooooh, a feisty one,” Gabriel grins wickedly, giving Cas a thumbs up, “I like him Cassie, you can keep him! And I say keep him, because I do not see a mating mark on either of you, and that just spells trouble, boys!”

 

“This is your brother, Cas?” he asks incredulously, staring between the two Alphas. “This is not what I was expecting _at all.”_

 

“Am I better looking than you imagined though? Because that’s all that really matters.”

 

“Gabriel,” Cas sighs, “You aren’t making a very good first impression. How about you make yourself useful and go see about us actually receiving food? We’ve been sitting here for fifteen minutes now and we’ve yet to place our orders.”

 

“Alright Mr. Grumpy Gils, I’m on it. I’ll be back shortly,” he says, before winking at Dean and disappearing behind another wall.

 

Dean finally turns to Cas, bewildered, only to see Cas smiling in the wake of Gabriel’s departure. He’s obviously missing something, obviously not seeing enough of Gabriel to understand the fond look on Cas’s face.

 

“Does he uhh… does he work here?” Dean asks tentatively. Cas snaps his attention back to Dean.

 

“Yes. He owns this place actually. I know you don’t know much about Gabriel yet, but if you did, you’d know immediately how much of himself he’s put into this place. Did you happen to catch the name of this establishment?” Cas asks, amusement evident in his voice as he shakes his head.

 

“Levantitti da cog or something?”

 

“ _Levati Dai Coglioni,”_ he corrects, smirking. “Loosely translated, it means ‘Get out of my balls’ restaurant. It was meant to be a pun about meatballs, and he was banking on the fact that most of the general population did not know or understand Italian. You should have seen his face the first night this place opened and a whole family who used to live in Italy walked in, scandalized,” Cas chuckled.

 

Dean laughed at the mental image, and how Cas had probably been freak’in embarrassed like a good little brother…Kinda made him miss his own brother.

 

Maybe he’d pick up the phone next time the little turd called.

 

“Alright, that’s pretty funny,” he conceded before stuffing the rest of the breadstick into his mouth. “God these are good,” he moans, mouth still completely full.

 

“That is disgusting, Dean.” Cas informs him, watching in fascinated awe as Dean reaches for another one.

 

“Hey- you try eating for two and then we’ll talk about my eating habits, okay? I’m freak’in starving.”

 

“Did I hear the sound of hungry, dying people?” Gabriel comes around the corner, huge grin in place as he carries a covered dish towards them. “Because a little birdie told me a certain someone loves pie! Pie is a perfectly good lunch, right?”

 

Alright. Maybe Gabriel wasn’t so bad.

 

 

 

On the way back to Castiel’s house, he’s close to falling asleep again. With a full stomach and the past few hours replaying in his head, he closes his eyes and leans his head against the cool glass of the car window. He’s dimly aware of the freaki’in classical music Cas has playing softly in the background, but he’s too tired to protest or question it. He won’t let himself actually drift off though since he’ll be driving himself home very soon.

 

“Cas?” he mumbles sleepily.

 

“Yes, Dean?” he hears Cas say softly.

 

“How long you gonna be gone?”

 

Cas doesn’t answer for a few seconds.

 

“I’ll be flying out to Denver early Friday morning. I’ll return Sunday night.”

 

Oh. It was Wednesday now, so he still had a little time with him before he left for his conference.

 

“If you want…” Dean says and then hesitates. “It might be easier on you if I drop you off at the airport. You could crash at my place tomorrow night and then I can drop you off. So…you wouldn’t have to worry about parking and all that shit.”

 

He’s reaching, and he knows he’s reaching, but hopefully Cas doesn’t.

 

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas says, sounding grateful, “That would be a big relief. Are you sure you wouldn’t mind?”

 

“It’s no problem dude,” Dean dismisses, letting himself sink further into his seat.

 

He honestly couldn’t wait to be reacquainted with his bed. After Gabe had given him that sweet ass piece of pie and he’d ordered a full lunch/dinner on top of that, and pigged out while listening to the brothers talk.

 

Gabriel was a sassy motherfucker compared to Cas’s dry wit, so he’d been thoroughly entertained the entire time as they’d gone back and forth. Even when Gabe was talking directly to him, he hadn’t felt uncomfortable. It was kind of hard to when they’d started their relationship with fucking baby daddy jibes. Now that they’d gotten that out of the way, it had been smooth sailing. He hadn’t been kidding when he’d thought that maybe Gabe wasn’t so bad.

 

It had gotten a tad bit awkward when the discussion had moved towards the pup, but not in the way Dean, or clearly even Cas, had expected.

 

Gabriel was clearly… excited? He’d had this grin that Dean could already tell meant trouble when he said they would be seeing a lot more of him now. And he even dropped the word “Uncle” like he was ready to be involved with the pup in a more involved way. Cas’s whole face had lit up as he’d stared incredulously at his brother, and Dean had been hard-pressed to respond with anything resembling intelligence.

 

Dean had barely wrapped his idea around him and Cas being a kind of unit, he hadn’t factored in Cas’s family or even really his own. It wasn’t like he was exactly on good terms with them, or even speaking terms.

 

So shit with Gabriel would be interesting.

 

But not as interesting as things were between him and Castiel.

 

With his eyes closed and Cas’s scent permeating the warm, enclosed car, soothing piano tinkling in the background, he’s not so sure he wants his time with Cas to be over.

 

It’s hard to believe they’d almost spent two days together, but with everything that had happened; last night, this morning, and most importantly today, the time seemed to fly by. Now, he wouldn’t be seeing Cas until tomorrow night, and then not again until Sunday night. It was nothing really, since he’d spent the majority of his time alone since he’d moved out, but he’d grown used to the company.

 

Opening his eyes when he feels the car slowly coming to a stop, for the first time ever the sight of his car has him narrowing his eyes in annoyance. That car ride had been shorter than he had expected. And he’d brought all his stuff out and dumped it his back seat before they left, so he had no excuse to drag this along.

 

Sighing and looking over at Cas, he finally notices Cas’s attention. His blue eyes are soft as they meet Dean’s own, and he’s wearing that little smile that only quirks up one side of his mouth. He’s not sure Cas is smiling because of him, or the pup, or their time with Gabriel, but he’s afraid to open his mouth to ask in case he unintentionally says something stupid like he usually would and ruin the moment.

 

Cas brings his hand up slowly to cup Dean’s cheek, and Dean thinks for a second Cas is going to kiss him but then he whispers, “Thank you for letting me take you today, Dean.”

 

Dean bites his lip and nods. He’s glad Cas came with him too, but he can’t say the words out loud; couldn’t imagine himself expressing how much of a comfort Cas’s presence had become. So he turns away and reaches for the door handle, carefully maneuvering himself out of Cas’s stupid little prius and into the fucking cold night air.

 

It’s the first fucking day of November not December, so why was he already frozen solid? Shivering as a breeze picked up around him, he was actually kind of glad for the excuse to hurry along to his car. As much as he wanted to chill with Cas, he didn’t want to come off as too needy.

 

But Cas follows him silently as he all but runs for the shelter of his car, staying one pace behind him until Dean unlocks his door and is about to get in.

 

“Dean, wait,” Cas says, grabbing his shoulder and turning Dean around to face him.

 

“Dude,” he complains, shivering again, “It’s fucking freezing, and my bed is calling my name.”

 

“I understand. I just wanted to let you know that I might come over very late tomorrow night. I have quite a few things to finish before my departure, and I know you retire early. Don’t wait up for me if I take too long, you need your rest much more than I do.”

 

Frowning at freak’in _domestic_ this all sounds, Dean can’t help but wonder for a second how the fuck they got here; with Dean pissed at Cas for not telling him that he was leaving, meeting Cas’s brother and almost going on a fucking date, holding hands, and Dean waiting for Cas to come home at night after a long day’s work. Shaking his head at the roll he’s suddenly found himself in, Dean just mutters okay and agrees to leave the door unlocked for him.

 

When Cas smiles at him with that little smile again, this time, he thinks fuck it and leans in. He’s still shivering, but the second his lips meet Cas’s he feels warmth shoot through every part of him. More so when he grabs Cas by his sweater and drags him closer to steal his warmth.

 

It isn’t a frantic, lust filled affair like this morning despite Dean urging Cas closer and nipping at his bottom lip. Castiel doesn’t want that to be the way they end their time together.

 

Carefully pressing Dean against his car, he reaches up to stroke the sides of Dean’s face as he slows down their pace, kissing him deep but only using short brushes of his tongue as a new scent reaches his nose. The scent of Dean’s slick is almost his undoing, almost causes him to lose control of the careful intimacy they’re experimenting with, but he reins himself in. Dean needs to be able to trust him not to be controlled by his baser instincts, and he needs to be able to trust himself.

 

Pulling away gently, he opens his eyes to see that Dean’s are still closed. With pink cheeks and wind swept hair, Dean takes his breath away.

 

It’s another second before Dean opens his eyes, but Cas is waiting for him, barely and inch of space between their faces, bodies still molded together.

 

“Goodnight, Dean,” Cas rasps softly, pecking Dean on the forehead once more before taking a step back and allowing Dean to get into the driver’s seat.

 

“Night,” he mumbles, plopping down on the leather and closing the door. The silence that greets him as the door closes is so absolute, he looks over at Cas uncertainly as if to offer him some kind of explanation. And surprisingly, Cas does as he motions for Dean to lower the window.

 

Starting the car quickly, hearing the engine purr to life beneath him, he cranks the window, looking up at Cas in confusion. “Yeah?”

 

“You almost forgot this,” Cas says, pulling something out of his back pocket and handing it to Dean carefully. It’s the ultrasound picture.

 

Staring at the picture in his fingers and then up at the Alpha in front of him, his chest feels heavy and warm. God, he needs to leave before he embarrasses himself…

 

“Thanks Cas,” he says sincerely, placing the picture up on the dash to prevent it from getting bent. “I’ll seeya tomorrow.”

 

By then, maybe he’ll have a hold of himself.

 

The next day though, nothing he needs to get accomplished gets done.

 

Not only is Benny not scheduled to come in that day, Dean forgot to take his anti-nausea pill that morning and ends up puking twice in the bathroom during his shift. Bobby had patted his back in sympathy when he’s cleaned himself up and left the now foul smelling bathroom, but when Bobby suggested he call it a day, he refused.

 

“It’ll pass,” he insists, immediately returning to the 2009 Nissan Maxima he was working on. “It’s my fault anyway. It isn’t the kid’s fault it’s dad is forgetful as hell.”

 

Bobby grumbled something about, “needing to take better care of yourself,” but hadn’t argued with him anymore. Choosing instead to watch him from a distance, door propped open in his office so that Bobby could worry over him in silence. Rolling his eyes at the old man’s antics, he got back to work, rubbing his stomach discreetly as he moved behind the car, out of view, before whispering, “Relax buddy. I gotta put in a few hours here, and then you can fuck with me as much as you want, okay?”

 

He smiles as he feels a little flutter against his hand. “You like when I talk to you, huh? I guess I could give it a shot more often. Just not now. We don’t want anyone to think I’m crazy now, do we?”

 

Patting his stomach one more time, he focuses his attention back on the busted tail light in front of him.

 

 

 

By the time he gets home and climbs the three fucking staircases up to his apartment, it’s around six and he’s fucking exhausted. The first thing he does is take the stupid pills he’d forgotten this morning, but he’s pretty sure it’s too little, too late as his stomach churns in unease.

 

There’s no point in eating anything too heavy unless he wants it to make a quick reappearance, so he settles for a plain bagel and a shitload of water with lemon. Cas got him hooked on the stuff, and it usually helped with his stomach so he’s hoping it’ll help now as he carries his meager dinner to bed with him.

 

Everything tastes wrong though as he forces himself to swallow bite by bite, washing it down with his water every other bite; and he’s starting to think that maybe it isn’t just from missing the pills. Maybe he’s getting sick? He feels a little…off.

 

That would fucking suck, especially in his current situation.

 

Sighing in exasperation he finishes everything through sheer force of will before lying down on his back and pulling the covers over his face on instinct. He’s usually fucking freezing, all too excited to get under the covers and get warm, but this time, it’s too stifling to cover his head so he quickly untucks it. Satisfied for the moment, he blinks only a few more times, staring up at the ceiling above him before he closes his eyes. It’s early, but with Cas coming over later, he figures he has time to take a little nap so that he’s more awake when Cas arrives.

 

But as soon as he wakes again he knows it’s too dark out for a little nap. He’d hoped he’d gotten over his nausea earlier, but clearly he was wrong as he stumbles out of bed into the bathroom.

 

Right before he opens the lid of toilet he hears the front door creak open, but he quickly forgets about it as he throws up everything in his stomach.

 

By now he knows his way to the toilet by heart, so he hadn’t tried to switch on the light, but he regrets it now as he hears Cas calling out for him probably from his empty bedroom, worry giving his tone an edge.

 

“Dean?” Cas calls again, closer now.

 

He’s about to answer him back when he gags and heaves into the toilet again, actually surprised there was enough in his stomach for round two.

 

Apparently his gagging was answer enough. He hears the bathroom door open and then the light is blinding him as Cas switches it on.

 

“Dean?” Cas rushes over to him, squatting at his side, one hand going to his lower back.

 

Still breathing hard and struggling not to dry-heave, he tries his best to smirk over at Cas. “Don’t mind me, just over here, loving life.”

 

But Cas doesn’t laugh, doesn’t even smile as he looks Dean over in concern. His hand starts a rubbing motion on his back that has his sore muscles relaxing in relief after being hunched over in such an awkward position.

 

“How long have you been here, Dean?” Cas asks him softly, other hand moving to push Dean’s sweaty hair away from his forehead gently. Dean feels a little warm, but nothing too alarming as to not be contrived from morning sickness.

 

“Not too long,” he mumbles, closing his eyes at the feeling of Cas’s fingers moving through his hair. “Forgot to take the freak’in anti-nausea pill this morning. I took it when I got off work, but it’s been a hell of a day.”

 

“I’m sorry, Dean,” Cas says quietly.

 

Opening his eyes at the guilt he hears in Cas’s voice, he rolls his eyes at Cas when he sees Cas’s kicked puppy face. Of course Cas would somehow feel responsible for him. Of course he would find some way to blame himself for Dean’s unhappiness. The room reeked of omega distress, but underlying it was the distinct scent of the Alpha’s worry. Which is fucking ridiculous.

 

“Sorry for what, dude?” Dean scoffs. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. This shit happens and there’s nothing you can do to change that. But there is something you can do to help it. Turn that frown upside down, and let me get a hit of that scent, yeah?”

 

He’s not usually so vocal about what he wants, so Cas looks at him in surprise, raising an eyebrow and pursing his lips. “Of course, Dean. Let’s get you up.”

 

Getting to his feet first, Castiel moves to stand behind Dean and lift the man from underneath his armpits despite Dean trying to shake him off as he gets to his feet.

 

“Alright, asshole,” Dean grumbles, “Do you want to wipe my ass too?”

 

“I don’t know what you mean,” Cas says way too innocently as he wraps an arm around Dean’s back to lead him out of the bathroom. Dean rolls his eyes again, but doesn’t complain about the coddling. He knows it’s about to get worse.

 

As they both get into bed though, bed-side table still on, Dean finally notices how fucking tired Cas looks. Dark bags under his eyes, five o’clock shadow just a little too long, Cas looks 40 instead of 30. For the first time he wonders if he isn’t the only one feeling the effects of the pregnancy. Had he really been so selfish that he hadn’t even noticed Cas’s own exhaustion? He knew he’d been working really hard at the hospital, but he spent any and all free time with Dean, so when did the man take a break?

 

Usually in this scenario, Cas would try and coax Dean closer, situating them in order to give Dean unlimited access to Cas’s scent, but upon his little revelation, Dean decides to switch it up.

 

Turning off the light quickly, Dean grabs both his pillows and puts them behind his head and shoulders. Feeling around for Cas’s warmth, he finds the soft material of Cas’s shirt and pulls.

 

“Dean what - ” Cas starts to question him, but Dean shushes him immediately.

 

Pulling the Alpha over close, he pushes the man down a little so that Cas’s head fits comfortably under his chin. Wrapping his arms around Cas’s shoulders, he presses his face into Cas’s hair and just breathes.

 

He’s holding Cas for once instead of the other way around.

 

As much as the night started being about him, he’s glad he can make it a little about Cas, even if the Alpha is unaware of his motives.

 

“Fuck, you smell good,” he whispers into soft hair.

 

He feels Cas shiver as his voice tickles his spine, but then he feels a hand worming its way underneath his hips and the other rubbing circles against his belly.

 

“Your scent is a little off,” Cas comments in a low voice, “I apologize for not coming sooner.”

 

“You didn’t know, Cas,” Dean mumbles, closing his eyes as he breathes deeply, inhaling Cas’s addicting scent. “Besides, it doesn’t matter. You’re here now, so shuttup.”

 

“Alright, beautiful,” Cas chuckles, “You can sleep now. I set an alarm for 6:30am, giving us around 45 minutes to get to the airport.

 

“Fuuuuuuck,” Dean groans, and Cas laughs quietly again.

 

“Sleep now,” Cas soothes, continuing his ministrations across Dean’s stomach and helping lull him to sleep. Nuzzling into Cas again, he closes his eyes and tries to get as much sleep as possible before he has to get up at the ass crack of dawn. But even as he drifts off he can’t quite make himself regret the decision to volunteer to take Cas.

 

 

 

 

“Dean,” a voice sings in his ear, tickling his neck. He scrunches his eyes closed tightly, unwilling to let go of sleep.

 

“Deeeeean,” the voice says in his ear again. This time he grumbles in response as he feels wet kisses being pressed against his neck.

 

“No.”

 

A laugh this time, pressed against his neck, sends shivers down his spine and has him hunching his shoulders instinctively. “Come on Dean, it’s time to get up.”

 

“It’s a good thing you’re a doctor,” Dean mumbles sleepily, “Cuz I’m about two seconds away from punching you in the face.”

 

Another laugh comes from behind him before Dean is suddenly being rolled onto his back. Spluttering indignantly, eyes snapping open to glare at a smiling Castiel, the complaints die on his tongue as he watches Cas’s eyes grow very soft as hands find their way to his stomach.

 

“Are you feeling better today?” Cas murmurs quietly through his smile. Both hands feel warm against his skin as he rubs up down his little bump, even with his shirt acting as a barrier. He’s tempted to give Cas access to bare skin, but something holds him back. For now, this is enough.

 

“Yeah,” he answers, unable to stop his own smile from forming. “haven’t puked yet, have I? That’s always a good sign, right?”

 

“Indeed.”

 

“And how about you, little one?” Castiel says, bending down to lay his head against the bulge, causing Dean’s heart to constrict and his jaw to drop. “How are you feeling today?”

 

It’s silent for a moment or two as Cas pets at him, but then they’re both startled by the feeling of a tiny kick. Right against Cas’s cheek.

 

“Dean,” Cas whispers, voice cracking.

 

“I think it likes your voice, Cas,” Dean says softly, “Try again.”

 

Biting his lip in excitement, Cas eagerly agrees. “Hello pup. If you can hear me…” he pauses, looking up at Dean cautiously before pressing his face back in. “If you can hear me, just know that you are loved. You are so loved.”

 

While Cas had alluded to the feeling the other day, he’d never out right said it. Now, stupid fucking tears gather in his eyes as Cas presses a kiss directly into his stomach, to the accompanying feeling of the baby fluttering back. It’s such a raw moment, too raw for his liking really, all he can do is sit there as he pulls a Grinch and feels his heart grow about five more sizes. Catching his breath shakily, he meets Cas’s eyes as they look up at him.

 

“It’s time to get going, Dean,” Cas says reluctantly, aware that with his words he’s ending a very important moment. But they’ve already spent too much time in bed, and they needed to get going. Besides, he was certain there would be many more moments to come.

 

Clearing his throat loudly, Dean nods and sits up. Holy shit. He needed to clean up his down town as soon as fucking possible. Either Cas had fucking super control, or the blanket and his sleep pants had been enough to mute it because he was disgustingly wet. More so than usual.

 

It must have been the second option, because as soon as Dean stands up, Cas’s eyes widen and his nostrils flare. Dean doesn’t give him enough time to comment though, because he’s already walking briskly to the bathroom with a shower on the forefront of his mind. He trusts Cas, but even the tamest of Alphas had to have their breaking point. And he really didn’t want to see Cas’s.

 

Showering quickly and thoroughly, he’d done in record time. Wrapping a towel around his waist, he cautiously peaks his head out the door to get Cas’s 20.

 

Thankfully he hears a distant clatter from the kitchen, giving him the green light to head to his room, and he dresses just as quickly as his shower. Bundling up as he thinks of the cold Kansas morning just waiting to freeze his balls off, he thinks twice as he’s about to leave his bedroom. Weirdly enough, he’s sweating already. Feeling uncomfortably warm inside his sweater and jacket, he strips off both and replaces them with just a long sleeve. Whatever. He was going back to bed as soon as he dropped Cas off anyway.

 

Shrugging into the worn flannel, he follows the sounds of clinking glass to where Cas is pouring two cups of water. The man is in his business casual already, worlds away from the sleep-messy man from a few minutes ago.

 

“You ready?” Dean asks.

 

“Just about,” Cas mutters, distracted by attempting not to spill, “My belongings are packed and ready to go by the door. You just need to eat and we can leave.”

 

“Cas, I don’t need a fucking buffet or whatever. I’m good with just grabbing a protein bar for the road. I can eat when I get back.”

 

Cas narrows his eyes at him. “Dean Winchester, I know you enough to know that that is a blatant lie. Admit it, you fully intend to go straight back to bed as soon as you return don’t you?”

 

Looking down sheepishly, he sits down at his little table and pulls whatever is in the bowl Cas sat out for him in front of him. It’s oatmeal. Ugh.

 

“That’s what I thought, “Cas says smugly, carrying his own bowl to the table before setting down one of the glasses of water in front of Dean. Dropping two pills next to it, he says, “And don’t forget to take your pill this time.”

 

“You mean pills?” he mumbles through a thick mouthful of oatmeal. It wasn’t actually that bad.

 

“The second pill is a prenatal vitamin. I picked you up a bottle at work. You should take one every morning with your anti-nausea medicine. The bottle is by the fridge.”

 

“Okay,” he says, but his attention is fixated on the little blueberries swimming around in all that mush. Oatmeal really wasn’t the most attractive food to look at…

 

“Did you hear me, Dean?”

 

His attention snaps back to Cas. “What? Yeah, once a day. I gotcha. You ready? I’m pretty full.”

 

“You hardly ate half, Dean,” Cas sighs. “Do you want something else?”

 

“No, dude. I’m really full, I swear,” Dean says, standing up to take his and Cas’s empty bowl to the sink. He’s starting to get tired again, and as soon as he gets this over with, the quicker he can catch some sleep before his shift later today.

 

“If you insist,” Cas says reluctantly. Standing himself, he follows Dean to the door to grab his stuff. It’s only a backpack and a small suitcase, so he waves Dean off when he tries to help.

 

“Aren’t you going to wear a jacket, Dean?” Cas worries as they step outside the door, pausing when Dean ignores the jacket on the hook right inside the door. Annoyance bubbles in his chest at the concern he can scent coming off of Cas, and he’s sick of it all of a sudden.

 

“Will you fucking quit it, Cas?” Dean snaps angrily. “I don’t need you telling me what to do, and I don’t need you worrying over the stupidest shit, alright? I’m fine.”

 

Taken aback by the hostility directed at him, Cas just sighs again. “Of course, Dean.”

 

Getting into the driver’s seat while Cas places his things in the back seat, Dean waits impatiently as he starts the car. And when Cas is in, the drive is silent. Cas staring out the window, Dean all but glaring at the road ad his scent goes all over the place, probably confusing the hell out of Cas.

 

But by the time he’s pulling into the loading, drop-off only zone, his scent has settled to something a lot calmer.

 

Cas looks at him cautiously from the corner of his eye, and regrets putting that kind of caution on the Alpha’s face. He’d just been trying to take care of him. And much a he felt he didn’t need it, Cas’s instincts to worry over him was probably just as strong as Dean’s instinct was to care for the pup. They were slaves to their biology, and he had to keep that in mind.

 

“Hey,” he says softly, grabbing Cas’s shoulder when the Alpha reaches for the door handle.

 

“Yes, Dean?” Cas says carefully, turning back to face him.

 

Instead of answering though, Dean kisses him. It’s short and sweet, tasting of cinnamon and brown sugar, and Dean hopes Cas understands that he’s saying sorry.

 

When Dean pulls back, he smiles at Cas. “Have a safe trip, man. I’ll see you Sunday.”

 

Cas smiles back at him, obviously relieved. “Thank you, Dean. Call me if you need anything. I might not be able to answer you right away if I’m attending a lecture, but I will get back to you as soon as possible.”

 

“Just go, Doctor Novak,” Dean says, rolling his eyes, “Boringness awaits you.”

 

Cas laughs, smiling as he gathers his stuff, and with one lingering look at Dean, turns for his gate.

 

Dean watches until he can’t see him anymore.

 

 

 

 

 

Waking up the second time that day is a totally different experience.

 

After he’d dropped off Cas, he remembered stripping on the way to his bed, feeling so hot and itchy, the thought of clothes smothering him had been unacceptable. In nothing but his boxers, how was it he was still so fucking hot?

 

Hot and fucking wet again.

 

Groaning as he sees the time, he only has enough time to change his underwear and redress himself hurriedly if he wants to make it to work on time.

 

Unfortunately his body didn’t get the memo. He’s sluggish and clumsy as he gets ready for work, and he feels like he’s moving in slow motion. Catching a glance of himself in the mirror, he notes the flush to his cheeks quickly before disregarding it and heading for the door. Looks like another off day, he thinks, but hey. At least there was still no sign of nausea. He would take what he could get at this point.

 

Seemingly in a blink of an eye, with really no recollection of the journey there, Dean’s pulling the Impala into her usual parking spot. And then he’s inside, sweating as the old heater in Bobby’s office chugs away and steals all the air from the room.

 

Something’s wrong. He feels _wrong._

 

But he already missed work this week for his appointment, so he feels obligated to work. Seeing no one around to stop him, he heads for his work station, pulling on his work jumper, and getting to it. Even if he’s not really aware of what _it_ is. His fingers are working on autopilot and his eyes feel like they’re frozen in one place.

 

It could be minutes later, or a fucking hour when the feeling of something of wet rushes out between his ass cheeks, startling him out of his daze. Blinking in shock as the stuff quickly soaks through both his jeans and his jumper, fear fills him when he hears foot steps coming his way.

 

It’s Benny. Another Apha. But he’s too shocked to be embarrassed. He watches dumbly as Benny cautiously comes towards him, mouth and nose plugged with a meaty hand.

 

“Dean,” he says slowly, voice strained. “Dean, I think it’s best if you head home, now brother.”

 

He’s numb. All of him is numb as he feels the slickness coating the back of his pants where he sits. But for some reason he still needs answers, still wants an explanation as to why he’s feeling this way.

 

“Why?” he hears himself ask.

 

“Brother, from the smell of things…I’d say you were goin into heat.”

 

No.

 


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A chapter before Pascon friends! If I die in the presence of team free will, please remember me fondly!

 

 

“No,” he mumbles, looking blankly at Benny, “No. This has to be a mistake.”

 

“Dean, I don’t think I’ll be ab - ” Benny chokes, eyes wide and wild, turning abruptly away from him to jog over to Bobby’s office. “You hold on tight, buddy. I’m gonna get the boss and we’ll get you sorted right quick, alright?”

 

Cas is gone.

 

Cas is in fucking Denver by now.

 

He has no one.

 

Biting his lip and wrapping his arms tight around himself in an attempt to quell the rising panic, he feels his chest expanding as he starts to hyperventilate. There had to be a mistake. There had to be. He hadn’t had a heat since he was fucking fifteen and under his father’s roof. That one heat had been enough of a reason to prevent another one for the rest of his life.

 

Shuttering hard at the memory of that night, he can almost feel the cold white marble of the bathtub he’d sat in all night as the pain had overtook him. It wasn’t just the feelings of heat that had him shaking in the tub, it was fucking fear as well. Of his future, of what his dad and Sammy would think, what he thought of himself. It was all clouded over in fear and misery accompanied by the physical throb of something unknown working him over.

 

And now it was happening again.

 

Choking on his next breath, he barely notices when Bobby comes into the room with Benny about ten yards behind him, still covering his nose and mouth.

 

“Dean?” Bobby asks like he’s afraid to speak to him. “Dean, you gotta calm down, boy. Freak’in out won’t do that pup of yours any good, ya hear?”

 

Dean clenches his eyes shut and hunches over his knees, hopefully covering enough of himself to shield the other men from his shame. God, if he had to stand up, there would be no hiding the mess he was.

 

“Dean? Alright, ya idjit,” Bobby snaps, forcing Dean to look back up in surprise. “Enough. Get up. We’re taking you home, and you’re gonna be fine. Ain’t no point in wallowing in self-pity now.”

 

“Bobby - ,” he gasps, but he can’t continue with his throat this dry.

 

“Come on, boy,” Bobby says, much more gentle this time as he carefully approaches Dean. He still flinches when Bobby is only a few inches away and stumbles to his feet, backing away until he feels the wall behind him.

 

Inhaling quickly as the room spins, it’s only the absence of another scent besides his own that calms him down and makes him realize that Bobby isn’t trying to hurt him or the pup. He’s a beta. Not an Alpha.

 

“Okay,” he mumbles. “Only you, though,” he says, eyeing Benny warily.

 

“That’s fine chief,” Benny calls from over Bobby’s shoulder. “Bobby is gonna drive you back in the Impala. I’ll follow behind to drive him back. Sound square? None of us are going to hurt you, friend.”

 

When he manages to nod, Benny spins on his heal and exits the shop. Bobby waits until Dean takes a few tentative steps forward to start for the door, leading the way, and Dean breathes a sigh of relief that both men are in front of him and won’t be able to see the huge wet spot marking up his jump suit.

 

Flushing at the thought, he doesn’t unwrap his arms from around himself as he follows Bobby to where he parked his car. He doesn’t remember parking here, so he doesn’t argue about Bobby driving his car. He’s in no shape to drive his baby.

 

The wind picks up right as Bobby fumbles with his keys, trying to unlock the doors. It makes his jump suit and pants underneath feel cold and slimy as the rest of him burns up, and he shutters and pulls impatiently at the door handle as he feels the locks pop up.

 

He needed to get home and get clean.

 

Wincing as his ass touches the cool leather, he can’t look over a Bobby as the material makes a wet sound when he scoots over. He’ll have to clean the seats too, he thinks, clenching his eyes shut and trying to ignore the distinct smell of distress mixed with the new scent his body was giving off.

 

“I’m so fucking sorry, Bobby,” he whispers, embarrassment keeping him from opening his eyes again.

 

The car purrs to live underneath them but he can still hear Bobby sigh quietly. “Ain’t nothing to be sorry about. Just need some time at home is all,” he says shortly before pausing. “You gonna call that Alpha of yours?”

 

Biting his lip, and hating the way his stomach clenches with just the mention of Cas’ name, he shakes his head vigorously. “No. No, he’s out of town.”

 

He didn’t even bother to point out that Cas wasn’t _his_ Alpha, didn’t have any claim over him except this kid inside him, because he was currently fucked up on freaky ass hormones. All he wanted right now was Cas. Every part of him. To scent him, to feel his warmth, to hear his laugh, taste his lips, bite his neck and lick his –

 

“Don’t you think you should call him, then?” Bobby’s baffled voice breaks him out of his self-torture. It was a good thing too, since the car was starting to filter a new, more embarrassing scent with his only father figure sitting right next to him.

 

Shaking his head to clear it, he opens his eyes to get a sense of how far away they are from his apartment. Almost there. Looking behind him quickly, he sees Benny’s hummer trailing them closely.

 

“He’s at a conference,” he explains woodenly, staring straight forward now, “And I don’t want to bother him. It’s not important.”

 

“I’m not gonna hold your hand and tell you what to do, but you need a reality check kid,” Bobby growls. “You should be the most important thing in that asshole’s life. You and that pup. I suggest you give him a call. Let him decide whether or not this is important.”

 

Dean finally looks over at the older man as they pull up to his apartment. All he sees is concern reflected back at him instead of the scorn and revolution he feels like he deserves. And he’s still expected Dean to answer him back.

 

“I’ll think about it,” he mumbles, tearing his gaze away and reaching for the handle. Bobby’s eyes saw too much, and they made him feel small.

 

“You better. Here boy, take your keys,” Bobby says, tossing them over the car when he notices Dean about to book it. “And give me a call if ya need anything. I’ll keep my phone with me.”

 

Touched by Bobby’s kindness but overwhelmed by the need to get inside his own space, he catches his keys, barely manages to say thank you, and all but sprints up to the third floor. He doesn’t even acknowledge Benny who had pulled behind the impala to wait for Bobby. He can’t. He’ll apologize later for being so rude when Benny was trying to help, but he thinks Benny will understand. They both had kept their distance after Benny had dropped that bomb. Alphas were inexplicably drawn to omegas while in heat, as omegas were to Alphas.

 

Benny didn’t smell good like Cas did, but he didn’t want to put himself at risk. He’d heard the stories and the seen the headlines about what happened to omegas when Alphas smelt a heat. They were driven my instinct, not logic. Every time he’d hear about it, he was more and more grateful for his suppressants….which he was no longer allowed to take.

 

But he was pregnant. He was _really_ pregnant. Weren’t pregnant people supposed to get a pass? Did this mean there was something wrong with the pup?!

 

Slamming the door behind him after he struggles to get the door open, he makes sure to lock his door before he starts stripping. His breath is coming fast again as he rips off the soiled jump suit and comes in contact with wet material. It sticks to his skin as he peals it off.

 

Shrugging out of his shirt next, he doesn’t care where it lands. He doesn’t care where his jeans and then his boxers end up either. He’s sweating as he makes a beeline for the shower; fumbling as he turns the cold water on blast. Pretty much throwing himself under the frigid spray, his body shivers, but it’s not because he’s cold.

 

The water feels good. His over heated body appreciates the coolness pouring down his head, but the feeling of water trickling between his cheeks, just that tiny brush of sensation, has his ass spasming around nothing, clenching and unclenching against his will.

 

The motion flashes his mind back to a few days ago, with him and Cas in bed, safe and warm. Touching from their lips to their toes, their scents more than a little lustful, brushes against each other more than a little suggestive. Cas had helped him through, had him squeezing Cas’s long, thick fingers tight between his cheeks as he fell over the edge.

 

Groaning in frustration, he presses his thighs together as hard as he can, standing awkwardly under the water in hopes of minimizing the movement of his thighs and ass. But if anything, the friction between his thighs makes it worse, makes his stomach clench in longing, and turns the water/slick ratio to 40-60 in favor of slick. Every part of him feels hyper sensitive and alive underneath the gentle pressure of the water, almost as if _someone_ was running their fingers softly over his body.

 

The water isn’t helping, he realizes in panic.

 

Opening his eyes when he realizes they’d closed in unexpected pleasure, he’s panting as he abruptly reaches for the nozzle to turn off the shower. Fuck this. He was close to embarrassing himself from just the thought of Cas and a little water.

 

He’s still panting as he exits the shower though, forgoing a towel and clothes in favor of his bed, not even caring as he soaks his sheets with the water still pebbling against his skin as he face plants.

 

The thought of anything against his heated skin right now would be agonizing. Even the sheets underneath him feel hot and uncomfortable as he mushes his face against the familiar material, closing his eyes and trying to scent anything to ground him.

 

All he smells is heat.

 

Turning over quickly to take the pressure off the pup, he moans as his ass comes in contact with the bedding. It was still clenching around nothing, still forcing his thighs to constrict together, apart, together, apart as his anxiety increased.

 

_This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening._

 

His head feels cloudy as it races with a million thoughts; of Cas, his first heat, his father’s scorn, Cas, the bathtub, the ultra-sound, taking suppressants, Cas, fingers, lips, _Cas._

 

“Fuck!” he shouts. Covering his face quickly with shaking hands before fisting them and banging them hard against the bed. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” he breathes, thumping his head thrice against the mattress.

 

All that met his angry outburst was silence. No one could hear him fall apart.

 

Clenching his fists so hard he wonders if nails will draw blood, he flinches spectacularly as his phone starts ringing, buzzing noisily from the floor and shattering the thick silence around his space.

 

Getting to his feet on unsteady legs, feeling slick coat the back of them, he doesn’t get to his phone in time to answer it. Flipping the phone up, his chest tightens as he sees a new voicemail from Cas.

 

Bringing it to his ear immediately, he clutches it to him as he hears a very familiar gruff voice.

 

_“Hello, Dean. I didn’t get a chance to text you earlier, but I just wanted to inform you that I’ve arrived in Denver safely. As soon as I arrived I had to rush to make a lecture-I’m actually standing outside the conference room on our recess - ”_

 

Smiling with eyes closed as he imagines Cas sneaking away to call him while all the other doctors mill around speaking in self-important tongues, he presses the phone even harder to his ear.

 

_“I have to go now, but I was hoping to hear from you before you turn in. Have you heard of a skype? Charlie made me download the thing, but I haven’t had use of it yet…Alright, it appears that we are being summoned. Goodbye Dean. I’ll talk to you very soon. Don’t forget to eat a balanced din- “_

 

The message cuts out, and then there’s silence again.

 

He wouldn’t be able to talk to Cas later, he realizes with a sinking heart. Not without giving himself away and alerting Cas to his current predicament. He was just too raw, too disgustingly needy to speak calmly with the Alpha right now. He was weak, and the thing between the two of them was fucking him up. Mentally and physically.

 

He was fucking naked, gripping the phone like it had all the answers he was seaking, and in the beginning stages of heat for crying out loud.

 

He needed to get his shit together, stat.

 

Determined now to get through this, he decides on a course of action.

 

First, he needs to eat. He’s fucking starving, and he had a feeling he would be needing the fuel.

 

Second, he needed to think of the pup. He couldn’t have a meltdown right now, wouldn’t let himself feed that stress to his baby. It deserved better than that, and Cas was counting on him to take care of himself just as much as he was counting on Dean to take care of the pup.

 

Third, and this is the one that hurt the most and had his body clenching viciously in protest at the thought; he would not, _could not_ call Cas.

 

This would not beat him. Just because he was an omega didn’t mean he had to give in.

 

Because really, he thinks as he heads to the kitchen to hunt for food, how bad could a heat really be? He’d only experienced one heat in his entire life, and that had been his _first._ Of course it had been bad then, but that was because it was the first time his body had registered the new change he was going through. He was older, had a stronger pain threshold, and he knew(kind of) what to expect.

 

Suddenly, his panic from before seems silly. All he had to do was ride this out, and everything would be fine.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dean Winchester broke after 16 hours.

 

After he’d hung up the phone with Cas and put his plan in motion, he’d eaten as much as he could stomach, filled up a glass of water to keep by his bed, text Cas that he’d be going to sleep now, and cautiously laid back on the sheets.

 

Sleep had sounded appealing with the toll the heat was already doing on his body, but he was restless and _achy._ His backside started to hurt as he lay on his side, trying to avoid any and all things from coming in contact with the slick steadily dripping out of his hole.

 

The spasms hardly quit, only giving him a few minutes rest at a time before his hole was clenching around nothing again, begging for attention.

 

And the thing was… touching himself _back there_ was starting to sound better and better.

 

Every minute that ticked by, every torturous hour he lay panting and sweating in a puddle of his own making he thought about giving in. Deep down, he knew it would make him feel better, relieve the heat behind his eyes and chest just enough to take the edge off.

 

But just as his hand crept down his body, mindless of the mental caution signs flashing in his head, something in him froze.

 

He was paralyzed, hand stuck on his lower back, confused and irritated with himself for stopping. Or starting?

 

The cycle repeated for hours, unending as he worked himself into a frenzy with his non-touch. He couldn’t sleep like that, but he couldn’t(wouldn’t) do anything about the ache in his ass, so he had laid there. All night. Panting and writhing in frustration and discomfort, which was slowly morphing into pain.

 

Watching the sun creep across his floor slowly as night bleeds into day, he rocks back and forth as a potent wave of _something_ comes over him. Slick rushes out of him as his whole body clenches, and when the phone ring next to his ear, he reaches for it desperately, not looking at the screen, and not caring about the consequences.

 

“Cas?” he almost whimpers. He has no control over his voice right now, and he can’t bring himself to feel embarrassed by the desperation in his voice.

 

Until the person who is not Cas answers him back.

 

“Dean?” his brother’s voice comes, sounding confused as he hesitates. “Is that you?”

 

“Fuck,” he gasps, eyes snapping open in horror as he realizes his mistake.

 

Quickly hanging up, he drops his phone on his night stand like it fucking burnt him. He’d just answered the phone like a bitch in heat. He _was_ a bitch in heat. That’s how his silence towards Sam had just ended. Who knows if he’d _ever_ be able to show his face around his brother now.

 

Hands quickly going to his belly to calm himself down, he rubs circles into the soft skin until another wave washes over him, instantly erasing any thought besides the word _empty._

 

He was fucking empty.

 

Jaw dropping in wordless pain, he arches into the feeling; spine curving outward as his hole twitches and _aches._ Fucking hell, he aches.

 

But he can’t. He promised himself he wouldn’t.

 

He needed Cas.

 

He needed him right now.

 

He sits for another couple of hours, picking up the phone and bringing up Cas’s contact only for him to throw his phone away from him at the last second. He can do this, he thinks blearily, eyes drooping repeatedly as he feels another wave about to hit. He can-

 

He can’t do this.

 

The waves are coming on faster now, closer and closer together now, and he doesn’t remember opening his phone or finding Cas’s name the last time. But as he comes down from the tail end of one of the waves, panting harshly with sweat beading on his forehead, he’s aware of a ringing sound in his ear.

 

It rings three times before cutting off.

 

“Hello, Dean,” Cas says, rough voice sounding distracted as movement fills the phone with static for a second, and then it’s quiet in the background. “I’m glad you called. How are you?”

 

Holding his breath as Cas talks, he lets it go in a huge rush, only causing his voice to sound more breathless as struggles to speak.

 

“Cas,” he gasps.

 

“Dean?!” Cas says, alarmed now. “Dean, what’s wrong?”

 

Panting noisily into the phone, fighting panic and tears, he realizes what a momentous fuck up this was. “Nothing,” he forces himself to say, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry!”

 

“Dean, I need you to talk to me. What’s going on?” Cas asks, steel to give voice that makes Dean shiver, and his hole clench against his will.

 

Dean groans low in his throat, shifting so that he’s curled up as much as he’s able to while lying on his side.

 

_“Dean.”_

 

“God Cas,” he pants finally, eyes closed in humiliation. “I’m in heat.”

 

“What?” Cas whispers, voice small in his surprise. When he continues, his voice sounds more confident though, obviously flipping the switch to doctor mode. “Dean, tell me what you are experiencing right now. Any and all symptoms and the time of their origin.”

 

“I can’t, Cas,” he struggles to get out. His heart is beating so fast right now, and his body just wanted relief. Just staying on the phone with the Alpha was taking all of his focus. “It _hurts.”_

“Okay, Dean, alright,” Cas soothes, and his voice has Dean’s muscles relaxing incrementally. “Pregnancy heats are perfectly natural, alright? You’re going to be fine.”

 

“Cas,” he gasps out desperately again, feeling another wave coming.

 

“I know, beautiful, I know. I’m coming home right now, Dean. I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Cas says firmly, voices sounding in the background suddenly, and he can tell Cas is moving.

 

“But your- but your conference?” Dean stutters out, shocked.

 

“Fuck the conference, Dean,” Cas says firmly, sounding a little out of breath himself. He wonders for a second if Cas is running.

 

Another groan slips past his lips at the expletive. Fuck, Cas was hot when he cursed.

 

“Dean? I’m going to book the soonest available flight, alright? But for now…” he hesitates, “Is there anything you could do for the discomfort?”

 

It’s obvious what Cas is referring to. You’d have to be stupid not to. And as dumb as he knows he is, he doesn’t have time to play ignorant.

 

“No,” he whispers hoarsely. “No, there isn’t.”

 

“Okay, Dean,” Cas tells him softly, “I understand. I’ll get there as soon as I can. Until then I need you to do a few things for me. I need you to lock your door, drink lots of water, and…. Dean? Please. Please do not go near the bathtub.”

 

 

 


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is definitely a part 1 chapter. Sorry for the delay, after PasCon I was in a daze. But winter break is in a few weeks, so you guys can look forward to faster updates! Love you guys, thank you for sticking with me! ....Enjoy some porn. *drops mic

 

Stress.

All he is, every part of him is made out of stress. Dean is waiting for him.

 

Drumming his fingers restlessly against the steering wheel as the cars in front of him move much too slowly, he can’t help but think for one insane second that he’s acting out every clichéd romance movie he’s ever been forced to watch.

 

Rushing to get to his lover, fighting through traffic and airports and _time_. For Dean.

 

But then that second is over and all he can see in his head is Dean, alone and afraid, sitting motionless in that bathtub. He inches forward to speed the mini van in front of him along. He’s almost to the rental car drop off, and then the airport.

 

He could still clearly see it in his head, could remember the scent of Dean’s distress permeating the air as dead eyes stared blankly ahead of him. Dean had just found out that he was pregnant, and he’d shut down completely. When Castiel had first laid eyes on him, he’d thought for one horrifying second that Dean was dead. Ashen and unmoving, his heart had dropped down to his toes.

 

He never, _ever_ wanted to see Dean like that again.

 

That’s why he’d panicked when Dean fled to the bathroom Halloween night, and that’s why he’d all but begged Dean not to go near it now. For some reason that was the place Dean retreated to when he was afraid. He didn’t know when this began, or even if Dean was aware that he did this, but he’d come to realize that Dean associated the bathtub with safety. Somewhere to go when he was breaking down, somewhere that no one would find him.

 

Not that anyone had tried, he thinks, anger coloring his thoughts as he sees the drop off sign inching closer.

 

Dean deserved so much better. From everyone around him, himself included; because he should be with Dean _right now._ For the majority of Dean’s life the man has been alone, secretly struggling to hide himself from the world, and with no support to fall back on. He’d met Dean’s father, and hoped never to do so again. And Dean’s brother? From what he could tell, he wasn’t much better then their patriarch. Yes he tried to call Dean, but if Dean was refusing to pick up the phone, then he’d obviously cut Dean deep, and deserved the cold shoulder he was currently receiving.

 

Dean was so obviously used to dealing with things on his own, choosing to isolate himself needlessly, that when Dean _did_ ask for help, Castiel understood that it was of dire importance. If he knows Dean as well as he’d like to believe, Dean had probably suffered in silence up until he couldn’t handle it anymore. And then, and only then, Dean had reached out to him. For him. His stomach clenches when he thinks about what Dean must be going through. Alone.

 

Since Dean hadn’t experienced a heat since he’d first presented, the poor man had probably been completely blindsided. Yes he recalled Dean’s scent being a tad bit off before his departure, but he hadn’t of smelled of heat yet. It must have hit sometimes later. But with the way Dean regarded himself in regards to his gender designation…he’d probably been even more shocked. It didn’t sound as if Dean really knew what was happening or why, and Castiel was reminded of just how much Dean didn’t know.

 

Breathing a sigh of relief when it’s his turn to pull into the rental car lot, he hurriedly grabs his things and all but throws the keys at the attendant waiting behind a kiosk. There’s no time for apologies, and there’s no time for politeness.

 

Jogging over to the shuttles that bring them directly to the airport, he not so subtly inserts himself in front of the line of tired looking people who turn to glare at him. Luckily for him though, they don’t say anything. They must see the desperation and stress all over his face, or even smell it in his scent, because they give him a wide berth the entirety of the 6 minutes ride.

 

The airport is a blur. He’s sweaty and buzzing with energy when he finally takes his seat at the very back of the plane, vaguely aware of the disapproving looks he’s receiving from his fellow passengers. They’d had to wait for him.

 

By the time he’d asked for the soonest available flight to Kansas, the flight had less than half an hour until take off, and the woman booking tickets had at first old him there were no more available seats and that he’d have to wait another five hours until the next flight.

 

“Please, there must be one available seat?” he’d said, stomach dropping.

 

“I’m sorry, sir. There’s nothing I can do. The flight is already boarding, and you haven’t checked any of your luggage or carry-ons. I’m afraid you’ll have to wait.”

 

“They’re both carry-ons!” he insisted, looking at the time above her head, and then back at here. They were wasting time. “Ma’am please….My mate just went into heat. I need to get to him,” he said, staring into her eyes and letting his desperation peak through.

 

She assessed him seriously for a moment before biting her lip, looking down at the monitors in front of her. “Well…I might be able to - ”

 

“Yes,” he interrupted, “Anything. Money is no issue, just _please._ ”

 

“Yes, alright then,” she’d sighed in exasperation. “Lets get you on your way.”

 

The rest, he doesn’t care to remember. All that he cared about was Dean. And now he was on his way to him. In just an hour and twenty-two minutes, he’d be in Kansas.

 

Closing his eyes and resting his head back against the head rest, he tries to relax as much as possible with heart pounding away in his chest. He’d done his best. Now, it was out of his hands. Hopefully Dean had heeded his words and taken steps to care for himself. This was going to be the longest, most painful flight in the world.

 

 

 

 

 

Dean had barely been able to mumble, “Okay,” before he fumbled to end the call with Cas. He didn’t know what Cas was talking about, but he really didn’t care.

 

Cas was coming.

 

Cas was on his way.

 

Gritting his teeth as his body seizes again, he counts the seconds until he gains control over his body. One hundred and thirty-six seconds later, he grabs the cup he left next to his bed and drinks its contents sloppily, some of the water splashing down to pool on his burning chest.

 

What else did Cas say? Fuck, he can’t even remember.

 

Sweat is dripping down his neck, his spine, his _ass._ He feels so dirty. Exposed. But getting up and doing something about it feels next to impossible. Digging his fingers into his upper arms as another wave approaches, he rolls over onto his back mindlessly, hissing in shock when his mistake has his hole clenching hard at the contact. Closing his eyes again, he feels heavy and uncoordinated as he somehow rolls himself onto his side again, eyes drooping in exhaustion.

 

He wants to sleep so goddamn bad. He wants to wake up and have this all be a nightmare.

 

 Wrapping his arms around his stomach, he tries to close his eyes, tries to make his body relax. It’s somewhat easier now that his head feels so fuzzy, but all that he can get in his current state, with his current ache, is a light, restless doze. More often than not, his own body wakes him up after a few minutes at a time with another wave, and Dean loses track of how much time has passed since his phone call with Cas… Or was that a dream? Had Sam really called him, or was he delusional as well as miserable now? He couldn’t say for sure, and his phone had disappeared somewhere.

 

Cas had better things to do, Cas was gone.

 

Shivering hard as he feels even _more_ slick dripping down his thighs, for the first time since this whole fucked up heat shit started, he feels a few tears frustrated slip out the corners of his eyes.

 

So now he’s crying. Great.

 

Rolling his eyes at himself, he glances at the window hoping to get a better idea on what time it is. It looks much darker than he’d originally thought, and for a second he’s confused on the _day._ What if it was still Friday and he’d been blocking out the pain by day dreaming the time away? What if this was only the beginning?

 

His train of thought is interrupted by another wave that leaves him groaning, panting, and swearing as it takes over everything. More tears continue to blur his vision, but the heat is burning away any illusion of coolness. He’s never been so empty, so raw, so fucking _hot._ Someone must’ve started a fire somewhere, somewhere inside him, because there was no other reason he should feel it in his fucking core.

 

He feels like fucking screaming as his ass forces his entire body to feel like it’s going through withdrawal, he feels like breaking something; anything as long as he’s not the one breaking.

 

Groaning loudly when biting his lip fails to keep his frustration wordless, the sound dies on his lip when he hears a rattle from somewhere in his apartment. Freezing in place, trying to keep his body from moving as much as possible, Dean listens with wide eyes as he hears his front door close.

 

What the fuck?! Hadn’t he locked that shit?

 

He honestly couldn’t remember.

 

Who the fuck was it? Cas was in Idaho or something, and no one else ever bothered him.

 

Fuck…he thinks, fear and heat making his breath come quick, what if it was another Alpha? He smelt like omega in heat. And he’d learned over time that that meant a fucking free for all for any knotthead that caught his scent. And here he was…naked and alone and fucking helpless. The definition of a sitting duck, and yet here was still frozen; sitting up on his elbows, waiting.

 

His fight or flight instinct, his new instinct to _protect_ had his adrenaline going though. If someone he didn’t know, some dumb ass Alpha on a power trip walked though his door, he would fucking fight. No one would be hurting him or his baby. Hell no. He’d fucking kill someone if he needed to.

 

Panting as he hears murmuring though the rushing noise filling his ears, he watches the door swing open.

 

“ – told you to lock the door, Dean! Anyone could’ve-” Cas is saying, and he realizes the murmuring must have been Cas trying to talk to him before. But he’s frozen again. Watching with wide, shocked eyes as he watches Cas visibly react to the Dean’s scent. And then Cas is frozen too, pupils dilated, posture erect.

 

Meeting Dean’s eyes from across the room, some kind of energy or connection suddenly snaps between them, waiting and growing as they both realize the magnitude of their situation, eyes refusing to drop the other’s. Alpha and omega. Tension sings between them.

 

“Dean,” Cas says softly, nostrils flaring as he tries desperately not to be overwhelmed by the scent of sex and _Dean._ But this scent…the scent of heat…Overwhelmed would be quite the understatement. ”Dean,” he says again, but this time is sounds rougher, more guttural and deep.

 

But with the sound of his name in that mouth, his _Alpha’s_ , he’s finally able to move again. He needs to touch. He needs to make sure this is real.

 

“Cas,” he whispers, voice cracking, struggling to untangle himself from the sheets and sit up, “Fuck. _Cas - ”_

Dean’s movements are frenzied and uncoordinated as fear turns to lust in a blink of an eye. And Cas is stepping towards him too fucking slow, too fucking cautious.

 

“I’m here, Dean,” he’s saying sadly, taking in the tears still stuck to his skin, “It’s okay, let’s get you hydrat - ”

 

Finally managing to get to his feet, he grabs Cas by the hair and crashes his lips to his own, moaning and thinking fucking _finally._ Cas is fire. Everything he touches on Dean’s body sets him on fire, but the good kind. The kind that makes him want _more._

 

Using his shaky momentum to get them falling backwards to the bed again, he pulls Cas on top of him and cages him in with his arms around Cas’s neck in a vice like grip. Cas kisses him back after a seconds hesitation when he was too shocked to do anything, and then tongues and teeth clash. Cas lets him in, lets Dean take control and dominate the kiss, but then he pulls away to regard Dean breathlessly, only letting Dean pull him back in when too many seconds pass without the feeling of Cas on his lips.

 

“Shhh…Dean,” Cas pulls away panting again, blue eyes wide with concern. “I’m not going anywhere, breathe…” but he doesn’t argue when Dean leans up on his elbows to silence his words with desperate lips.

 

Cas is still resisting though, holding himself off Dean with arms braced on either side of him, looking fucking scared, like he’s afraid Dean is about to break, and Dean needs him to know that this is okay. This is what he wants. He wants Cas to lose control. He wants Cas to _take_ control.

 

Pulling away to scent and bite at Cas’s neck wetly, he pants loudly as he clutches Cas to him hard as another wave comes. He smells _so_ fucking good. Wrapping his legs around Cas’s waist, he grinds into Cas’s growing erection and whines deep in his throat, a sound he’s never made or even heard before. Cas isn’t where he needs him to be. Nowhere close.

 

“ _Dean,_ ” Cas rasps.

 

“Please Cas,” he hears himself pant desperately, “Just touch me, god, just fucking – ahhhhh,” he groans as slick trickles from his hole, and his body begins to shake. “Just-” but he can’t finish his sentence, too overwhelmed by heat and Cas, he just bites. Bites Cas’s neck fucking hard. Right where a mating mark would go. He doesn’t taste blood, so he knows he didn’t break the skin, but it’ll definitely leave a bruise.

 

 

The bite seems to be the last straw on Cas’s restraint, because Cas fucking _growls_ at him. A sound that goes straight to his dripping hole, and has him panting as he suddenly finds himself being man handled and flipped around so that he’s sitting on Cas’s lap; legs on either side of Cas’s thighs, straddling him.

 

“Dean,” Cas groans throatily. “God, you’re so beautiful.”

 

He doesn’t care that Cas is fully clothed while he’s completely naked.  He doesn’t care that slick is getting absolutely everywhere. He doesn’t care about Cas mouthing hungrily at his bared throat. All he cares about is the hard, thick cock he can feel directly pressed against his hole.

 

Moaning as he rubs himself against it hard, feeling the jean material underneath him quickly become soaked by all his slick, he claws at Cas’s back and uses his new leverage to press himself down even harder.

 

“C’mon Cas,” he whispers, nipping at Cas’s ear lobe before sucking it into his mouth, smiling when Cas hisses underneath him. “I want to feel you.”

 

Grinding his hips against Cas’s erection and groaning as it nudges close to his hole again, he closes his eyes and works his hips, lost to the feeling of _something_ finally touching the place he needs to be touched. The pressure alone against his hole has him frantically moving against the thick bulge underneath him, trying to get a good enough angle against his clenching hole. Another wave is coming fast, and everything is turning foggy except for Cas. Shakily, wanting so badly to feel Cas’s knot, to have that heat, that pleasure, that _fullness_ again, he fumbles to undo Cas’s belt.

 

But as soon as he gets it undone and hurriedly reaches for the straining zipper, taking _way_ longer than he cares to admit, lips leave his neck and gentle but firm fingers are suddenly holding his still.

 

God, he was so _close._

 

Groaning in frustration and desperation as the wave gets closer and closer to losing his mind, he meets Cas’s eyes with difficulty all the while never ceasing the movement of his hips.

 

“Cas,” he hisses, trying to wrestle his fingers back and get them back on track. “Please.”

 

“No, Dean,” Cas murmurs, and Dean is surprised to realize how soft Cas’s face has become, none of the unbridled fervor from before. Cas brushes a few sweaty strands of hair from his clammy forehead before he says, “Not like this. You would hate me if we did this during your heat, and I would hate myself.”

 

But his words don’t register. Words mean shit right now. He almost wants to say fuck you to Cas and force him to take Dean anyway, but he’s pretty sure Cas could overpower him right now.

 

“Cas, I can’t – you have to,” he groans slumping forward as the wave finally hits and panic races up his spine. Cas is going to leave him like this. He’s just as alone as he was before Cas got here. Choking on his next breath, he prepares for the pain he’s become all too familiar with.

 

“There are other ways, Dean,” Cas whispers in his ear, turning to press a kiss into heated skin.

 

And then the hands that had been so carefully avoiding his lower half drift down from his back, sending shivers of need all throughout Dean’s body.

 

Dean hears Castiel whisper, “Oh Dean,” sadly he realizes just how much slick is coating the back of his thighs and his ass, but Dean is too busy moaning as Cas cradles a cheek in either hand.

 

“Shhh….It’s alright Dean. Just relax. I’m going to take care of you.”

 

Massaging them apart and together, kneading the skin firmly cupped in his hands, Castiel draws him closer, hitches Dean up higher on his body until Dean is kneeling over him on his knees, every inch of Dean’s naked skin pressed Cas, only slightly impeded by his little bump. With the slight change in their position, Dean’s able to get some much needed friction against his cock as well as giving Cas full access to his backside. Rocking back and forth, sounds of frustration make there way out of his throat against his will.

 

“Hurry Cas,” he says hoarsely into Cas’s shoulder, tucking away his face to hide how fucking needy he is. But he’s two seconds away from a fucking meltdown, and he can’t fight it. He just wants this to be over.

 

“Shhhh,” Cas hushes him again, but this time Cas actually listens to him.

 

Keeping one hand attached to one cheek, Castiel smooths his other hand through the mess of slick- not bothering with any teasing or foreplay, probably realizing just how much Dean needed this- and two fingers easily slide inside his aching hole.

 

“Ahh ahh,” Dean grunts as they slowly settle inside him, thick and fucking _amazing._ He scrambles to hold on to Cas’s back, afraid that he’s going to disappear and he’ll be left empty again. Cas just holds him tighter, free hand moving to support his lower back.

 

Immediately his walls cling to Cas’s fingers, seizing up and clenching around them rhythmically just as they’ve been doing for the last few hours. Only this time, instead of pain, Dean muffles his moan of relief into Cas’s shoulder.

 

Sinking down onto Cas’s fingers until he’s fully seated on Cas’s lap again, he nods frantically against Cas’s shoulder in appreciation and approval as Cas adds another finger inside him.

 

He can feel how hard Cas is, can feel the slick pretty much dripping down Cas’s hand, can scent Cas’s arousal as he pleasures Dean, but all Cas says is, “There we go, Dean. It’s alright,” as Dean pauses, panting and frozen, torn between Cas’s pleasure and his own, “This is about you, beautiful, you can move.”

 

That’s all the permission he needs.

 

His fragile hold on his control snaps.

 

Closing his eyes and sighing, he works his hips onto the fingers inside him. He’s all instinct as he lifts himself up a few inches and slams himself back down, impaling himself again and again until he’s bouncing on Cas’s lap mindlessly. His wet hole making the ride smooth and easy, like he’s done this before.

 

He’s panting so fucking loud, sounding like he’d just sprinted a mile or two, but even that’s not enough to drown out the sound of his desperation. The noises coming from his throat just won’t _stop_ ; quiet whines he fails to muffle completely against the damp material of Cas’s shirt as he fucks himself on the man’s fingers.

 

Cas is murmuring to him, whispering softly into his ear, but he can’t hear the words, can’t focus on them enough to distinguish them from the comforting sound of Cas’s voice. He’s too far gone.

 

He’s thrusting forward and backwards, rubbing his cock against Cas’s front and then pushing back on to Cas’s fingers, when Cas crooks his fingers.

 

Squeezing his muscles together as Cas strokes his prostate again, he’s not even aware of the shout that passes through his lips or the way it tapers off to wordless pleasure so that he’s opening and closing his mouth against Cas’s shoulder now.

 

Up until this point, Cas had been letting him take his pleasure, but now, it seems that Cas wants to be the one to deliver it.

 

Twisting his fingers as he thrusts them in and out, Cas sets a hard pace Dean was not expecting _at all_ as he takes control. And soon, all Dean can do is minutely get friction against his cock as he squirms on the fingers inside him, fucking him hard and fast and forcing him to _take it._

 

Dean goes quiet when he comes, biting into Castiel’s shoulder as his body spasms around Cas’s fingers, finally melting into the man beneath him and making Cas bear his full weight. Slick pours out of him and he’s sure he’s ruined Cas’s clothes, but he can’t bring himself to give a single fuck as his body finally relaxes after hours and hours of being tense and on edge.

 

Cas’s hand starts to rub circles into his back wet with sweat as his ass continues to contract around Cas’s fingers.

 

It’s quiet for a few minutes, and Dean feels himself drifting off, content, when Castiel tries to slowly remove his fingers.

 

His eyes snap open. “Don’t,” he grimaces, another thrill of pleasure trilling up his spine as his ass automatically clenches, refusing to release Castiel’s fingers. “Don’t move.”

 

Castiel whispers an apology against Dean’s skin. Brushing kisses anywhere he can reach. Poor Dean. He hadn’t realized how long Dean must have been suffering until he’d felt the excess slick that had built up clinging to Dean’s skin. The man was covered it as well as sweat and tears. He holds Dean as close as he dares now, hoping they’d gotten through the worst of it.

 

Dean had let himself be unsatisfied for far too long, let the heat work himself into a frenzy he was unwilling to get himself out of. No wonder Dean was feeling it’s effects so harshly now. Unattended and unaddressed for years, the first climax would be the most crucial. Now that Dean has gotten through it, he was hopeful this experience would be a lot more pleasurable rather painful experience for Dean.

 

Dean was in desperate need of a respite.

 

Afraid to move, but all too aware of how hard Dean was shaking, he keeps his fingers where they are and slowly starts to lean back; bringing both Dean and him to lay back against the bed, shifting Dean to the side slightly  but keeping him cradled to his chest.

 

He wants to get Dean cleaned up, knows it’ll make him feel better in the long-run, but for now Dean needs him here. That fact even more evident as Dean turns his head to scent groggily at Catiel’s neck, relaxing even further as he breathes it in greedily.

 

Dean’s fingers never relax their grip on Castiel’s back though, and he’s certain there will be half-moon crescents tattooed into his skin for days to come. It seems only fair as he remembers the hickies he’d undoubtedly left on Dean’s neck when he’d lost control of himself for a few minutes in the very beginning.

 

He hadn’t known what to expect when he’d arrived at Dean’s apartment, all Omegas experiencing heats differently and in different degrees, but he hadn’t accounted for the way Dean would bring out his own Alpha instincts.

 

On a good day, Dean’s scent drove him to the brink of insanity, but in heat? There were no words to adequately describe how immediately overwhelmed he’d been as soon as he’d walked through that bedroom door. He’d been rendered stupid in the face of it, unable to think clearly or deny Dean anything as Dean demanded his touch. Castiel was supposed to be the one taking care of Dean, taking care of his needs, but for a few mindless seconds, he’d been utterly useless.

 

Until Dean attempted to free his steadily forming knot from his pants. That was the moment in which everything had become real, and he’d realized how out of control the situation had become.

 

They would have both regretted it if they’d let instinct dominate their actions. And Castiel would be furious with himself for taking advantage of Dean’s state regardless if Dean was willing. Dean was in no shape to give consent. And if they were ever going to make love again, he wanted Dean to actually want it. No alcohol in the mix, no heat.

 

Stroking a hand through Dean’s damp hair, he lets the silence blanket them as he listens to Dean’s breathing, soft now that a few minutes have passed.

 

He thinks Dean may have nodded off when he feels a whisper puffed out against his neck.

 

“Thank you.”

 

Dean had hardly been lucid enough to communicate this whole time, so when Castiel chances a look down where Dean’s head is cushioned against his shoulder, he’s surprised to see cautious green eyes staring up at him. He stokes his fingers across Dean’s forehead this time, and he’s pleased to see the way Dean leans into them.

 

“For what?” he says.

 

Looking down again, Dean presses his face and nose into Castiel’s neck once more. “For you know…uh not knotting me?” Dean says, an awkward hitch to his voice.

 

“Dean,” he sighs unhappily, “You don’t have to thank me for that. I would never do anything you didn’t want me to do, and I certainly wouldn’t betray your trust by knotting you during your heat.”

 

“That’s _why_ I’m thanking you, I guess,” Dean murmurs. “I was pretty much fucking asking for it. God – I’m a fucking mess,” he groans, lifting his head to look down at himself for the first time. “Jesus - ” he hisses, reaching back to pull a sheet over himself as shame starts to creep up his neck at the sight he makes.

 

He’s completed nude while Cas is completely dressed, plastered to the man’s side with the other man’s fingers still up his ass.

 

But just as he’s about to fucking book it, extricate himself and go find a dark corner of the world where no one will ever find him, Cas wraps an arm around his waist and draws him closer.

 

“Stop, Dean,” Cas commands, voice going hard. The sound of it had him involuntarily clenching around Cas’s fingers again. If Cas notices, he’s good at hiding his reaction. “Don’t over think this. You are in heat. Everything that’s happened and will happen is perfectly natural. Just let yourself go, Dean.”

 

Closing his eyes tightly, he clings even harder to Cas.

 

He doesn’t respond.

 

Another few minutes pass before he’s comfortable with Cas sliding out his fingers. It’s uncomfortable and wet, and he immediately misses the fullness, but as soon as Cas is free he’s rolling to his feet, pushing down Dean’s shoulders when he moves to follow.

 

“I’ll be right back,” Cas assures him. “I just need to grab a few things. You need to rest.”

 

Dean doesn’t fight him because he has no _energy_ to fight him. He’s fucking exhausted and he knows it shows.

 

He can see fucking concern when Cas looks at him so he lets him do what he needs to do while he lays uselessly on the bed; curled underneath the sheet, and in a puddle of slick he’s too tired to roll out of. There’s no point. All of his bedding will need to be washed when all of this is finished.

 

Sighing to himself he watches the door for Cas’s return.

 

He’s tired, so tired it’s ridiculous, but not the kind of tired in which he could find sleep easily. His body is still high from orgasm, still tingling as slick continues to pump out of him. He’s fucking disgusting, and the worst part is he’s absolutely positive that there’s more to come.

 

Sooner rather than later.

 

Catching the movement out of the corner of his eye as they’d drifted to stare blankly at the wall, he blinks a few times as Cas comes into focus. He has three water bottles and a protein bar tucked underneath one arm, and three wash cloths dangling from the other.

 

Setting down the water and bar on the bed-side table for later, Castiel perches on the end of the bed and tries to think about the best way to do this. Either way, Dean was likely to put up a fight, so he might as well shoot now and ask questions later.

 

“Dean, can you move to lay against the pillows? I think you’d be a lot more comfortable that way,” he tries hesitantly.

 

When Dean just grumbles at him, Castiel can’t help but smile.

 

“Come on, Dean. Don’t be difficult,” he teases, climbing onto the bed to lean over Dean.

 

“Your face is difficult,” Dean mutters back smugly, closing his eyes but moving as Cas directs him all the same, shrugging off Cas’s helping hands. He ends up in the middle of the bed, head and shoulders cushioned against his pillows, and he has to agree with the dude. It was more comfortable.

 

He has maybe two beats of peace before something hot and wet is being pressed to his neck, causing him to flinch away spectacularly, eyes flying open in shock.

 

Cas is looking down at him guiltily, but the heat- a wet wash cloth he realizes- doesn’t stop in its path the way he expects it to, only continues on to slide over his shoulder before he reaches up to cover Cas’s hand with his own.

 

“What are you doing?” Dean asks incredulously, more than a little confused, struggling to connect the dots.

 

“Nothing of import,” Cas tells him quietly, squeezing Dean’s hand where he’s restraining his other. “Relax. Let me take care of you.”

 

“I don’t need to be ‘taken care of,’” he sighs, dropping his hand. But he’s too tired to argue anymore. Too tired to resist the comfort Cas is offering him just by being here. He huffs and rolls his eyes, but Cas understands that that’s him giving him his permission to continue.

 

He closes his eyes again.

 

Castiel smiles as Dean relents, surprised Dean gave in so easily, and moves the wash rag carefully over Dean’s skin. Biting his lip, he gently presses it to Dean’s face, wiping away the sweat and tear tracks quickly before Dean turns his face away.

 

Moving on.

 

He wipes away everything he can, the sweat covering inch of Dean’s heated body, the saliva from where he’d sucked bruises into Dean’s sensitive neck, all over. Rubbing circles into Dean’s chest, he takes his time as he moves the warm cloth down to Dean’s protruding stomach; switching to another cloth when the one he was using feels too cool to his touch.

 

Dean sighs again quietly as Cas touches his stomach, and Castiel can see a quirk in lips, an almost smile as Castiel pays special attention to it.

 

But as time goes on, Dean starts to tense again in discomfort. The smell of heat gets stronger, the ambrosia of Dean’s scent filling the room just as it had when he’d first arrived. He estimates that only thirty minutes or so has passed since Dean had climaxed.

 

The sheet is still covering Dean’s lower half, preventing Castiel from touching there, but when he’s finished with Dean’s feet and legs, he makes his way back up the bed.

 

“Dean?” he asks directly into Dean’s ear, watching as Dean shivers and leans away. “Dean, I know its coming. It’s alright,” he soothes, stroking his hair again, “I just want to clean you up a little first, alright? Nothing sexual. This is for your comfort only. Do you understand?”

 

Dean’s mouth opens as he starts to pant, but he doesn’t say a word. Keeping his eyes closed, he nods and wraps his arms around himself.

 

Dean looks so small right then, so fragile. Castiel can’t stand it. He wants to take away Dean’s pain, his uncertainty, his self-loathing, every negative thing Dean has ever felt; his instinct to protect Dean overwhelming for a second.

 

Just sitting there, Dean trusting him completely, he’s snapped back to his purpose.

 

Small as the action is, this will help Dean feel better.

 

Kissing his forehead quickly before scooting back down the bed again, Castiel gently tugs away the sheet from around Dean’s waist.

 

Dean goes completely still as he removes the sheet, but other than the slight coloring of his cheeks and chest, Dean pretends not to notice how vulnerable he is.

 

Aware of Dean’s discomfort, Castiel takes the last warm cloth and quickly moves it over the insides of Dean’s thighs and across his hips. There’s slick every where of course, some that has dried into red skin and some fresh from recent activities. He rubs what he can, but as he inches closer to Dean’s half-hard erection and sees Dean bite at his lips, he decides that this will have to be good enough. This was too much for Dean, and he hadn’t even tried to touch Dean’s backside. When Dean’s heat is finished, he’ll have Dean shower.

 

Right now, it seems as though another heat wave has arrived.

 

Making his way up Dean’s body yet again, he goes right for Dean’s lips this time as Dean moans into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Castiel’s neck to hold him there.

 

His legs twitch as the wave gets closer, and he bends them at the knee to get some relief against his hole. It doesn’t work.

 

He’s suddenly going from zero to one hundred as it hits him fast and hard.

 

Cas’s lips feel fucking amazing against his mouth, but he can’t _breathe._

 

Wrenching away from the Alpha reluctantly, he breathes hard, trying desperately to scent Cas in order to calm down. If he’s calm and his Alpha is with him, maybe the waves won’t come at all! He can just –

 

“Fuck,” he hisses. His ass is starting to spasm again. Slick is leaking steadily now, just as it had before he’d come. “Shit.”

 

When Cas starts to pull away, he panics and grips him tighter, probably hurting the man in his attempt to keep him close.

 

“It’s okay Dean. I’m not going anywhere. I just want to try something alright?” Castiel says huskily into his neck. Where there had been concern flooding Cas’s scent a few minutes ago, was now replaced with lust.

 

Swallowing thickly, he lets Cas go.

 

“Close your eyes, Dean,” Cas whispers as he feels him slithering down his body.

 

Too lost in his own lust, he obeys without another thought.

 

Hands run up and down his thighs. Rubbing and coaxing. Legs which had been pressed together in discomfort are separated and spread. The bed shifts as Cas situates himself, and Dean bites his lip hard when his hole is exposed to the air and waits.

 

Eyes closed, desperate for _something,_ fucking _anything_ to touch him, he sighs in relief when the tip of a finger works itself against his hole. Spreading the slickness and massaging it while it tries to clench around the digit, Dean moans and opens his legs further to Castiel’s teasing.

 

Lifting his ass, unconsciously trying to force the finger inside himself, he groans when Cas’s hands clamp around his hips and pin them to the bed.

Hot breath ghosts over his now fully erect dick, and he startled by how close Cas’s face must be to it. He still keeps his eyes clenched shut though. Even as a tongue presses to the tip of his dick, licking away the precome dripping from the slit.

 

Moaning and trying to twist free from Cas’s hold around his hips, his hands find Cas’s hair and grips it tight. Tighter still as Cas sucks him down. But he loses the feeling of Cas’s soft hair beneath his fingers as Cas moves further down his body.

 

To where he needs the Alpha most.

 

Pushing Dean’s thighs up and apart, he can finally see Dean’s little hole. It’s pink and swollen and slick drips from it, and even as Castiel watches, it clenches and unclenches, desperate to be filled. Everything within him is coiled tight, probably just as tight as Dean, and he only spares one more thought on how Dean might react before he leans in to press his tongue against his quivering entrance; tasting his slick for the first time directly from it’s source.

 

Eyes shooting open when something wet and warm wiggles between his cheeks, Dean makes the mistake of looking down.

 

Cas has his legs propped up on his shoulders, laying between them as he sucks on his –

 

“Oh _fuck_ ,” he gasps, immediately closing his eyes again, afraid that the sight alone will make him come on the spot.

 

Castiel groans into Dean as he hears Dean reaction and presses the tip of his tongue hard against Dean’s hole, working his way inside it. The slick that fills his mouth has Castiel’s hips working against the mattress trying to get any kind of friction to alleviate the pressure building up between his hips. Pulling away slightly, he sucks the delicate skin around Dean’s rim into his mouth hard, only plunging his tongue back in when Dean frantically clenches around nothing.

 

Swiping over Dean’s hole with his tongue again and again, he hears someone screaming somewhere in the apartment; loud and fucking annoying. Trying to drown it own and focus on the weird and fucking awesome feeling of someone _eating him out_ like a fucking girl, his thighs spasms and constrict around Cas’s head in an attempt to make his tongue go deeper, to suck him harder.

 

It’s only when Cas raises his head up from between his legs to look at him that he realizes why Castiel is looking at him like he wants to devour him.

 

He’s the one screaming.

 

Biting his lip as Cas smirks at him before fucking diving back in, he can’t help the keen that passes through his clenched teeth when Cas twists his tongue inside him again.

 

 God, something this fucking wrong should not feel so fucking right. It definitely shouldn’t feel so fucking _good._ With a death grip in the sheets on either side of him, he works his hips desperately against Cas’s tongue, fucking his ass up to meet Cas’s face frantically.

 

When Cas grabs a cheek in each hand to spread him open even further for his mouth, Dean loses all control over his voice again, too caught up in pleasure to give a fuck about neighbors or his pride.

 

It’s loud, it’s messy, and it’s fucking perfect.

 

His vision is starting to go blurry as Cas sucks at him again, only brushing his tongue against his hole occasionally, and he knows he’s about to come. Can’t hold it off any longer as something builds and builds inside him.

 

But when he reaches for his neglected cock, intending to finish himself off that way, Cas fucking _growls_ against his ass, sending vibrations through his sensitive flesh and has him teetering on the edge of coming.

 

“Cas,” he yelps, “Oh fuck! Mmm…” he whimpers as Cas licks from all the way down his crack until he reaches his hole again. “What the fuck?”

 

“Don’t touch your cock, Dean,” Cas says hoarsely, pressing a kiss against Dean’s inner thigh before he meets Dean’s eyes sternly. “You don’t need to.”

 

Gasping as Cas presses against him with his tongue again, he’s torn between listening to Cas and disobeying and touching himself anyway. He couldn’t come without anything touching his dick. It was fucking impossible, and he needed to come _right now._

 

Cas must’ve felt him pause, because he pulls away one more time, blue eyes almost black with lust.

 

“Dean,” he growls roughly, “Come. Come on my tongue.”

 

Dean’s world turns to white and black and blue as he clenches on the warm muscle inside him. Distantly he knows he must’ve pushed it out with how hard his hole was trying to spasm around it, but there’s something inside him replacing it. Filling him up and making him feel like a bolt of lightening. And distantly he’s aware that his throat will be sore tomorrow from the way he’s screaming.

 

But then there’s bliss.

 

 

 

 

He’s never actually seen someone pass out after sex before, but he figures today is as good as any for a first. Even with his body still tense around his fingers, the rest of Dean is loose and content in sleep.

 

Dean needs his rest.

 

Pulling away and slowly lowering Dean’s legs back onto the bed, but careful to keep his fingers where he’d hurriedly had to replace them for his tongue, he crawls up the bed to Dean’s side.

 

Without his legs being restrained, Dean is already shifting onto his side the way he usually sleeps, and their bodies curl together seamlessly; two pieces of one puzzle.

 

Intuitively, he understands that this reprieve from Dean’s heat will probably be a short one. But instinctively, he can’t help the way his body starts to feel heavy, starts to feel deliciously warm as he wraps himself around Dean. Soon, his eyes are closing too. Scenting Dean’s neck one last time, he drifts off as exhaustion takes hold of him as well.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow that was so much porn.


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey friends! Hope everyone is doing well! If any of you talented artists would be interested in created fan-art for this story, PLEASE let me know, because that would be fucking awesome! Anyway, please enjoy! Love y'all.

 

 

Dean wakes up twice more during the night, and tired, clumsy fingers slot into place once more. Dean comes quickly and quietly both times, panting roughly against Castiel’s neck before his harsh breathing gradually turns into soft snores, the both of them finally able to fall into a deeper sleep while wrapped around each other.

 

He wakes again to the sound of a pained groan.

 

Cracking his eyes open just enough to check on Dean, he’s surprised to see that Dean is awake. Rolling his shoulders backwards and then forward, Castiel feels every inch of Dean as Dean stretches his entire body against him; feeling all of his muscles tense and then relax again as Dean groans again then sighs heavily.

 

Curling his arm from where it’s pinned and asleep under Dean’s head, he bends it at the elbow, hoping to get the blood flowing at the same time being unable to resist stroking Dean’s face.

 

Already he looks worlds better then he had yesterday. His cheeks and chest are still a bit flushed, and the smell of heat was still a dominant force to be reckoned with, but looking into Dean’s eyes now, he could see an awareness that had been absent previously. He pushes a sweaty lock of Dean’s hair away from his face where it had stuck in their sleep.

 

“How are you feeling?” he murmurs. It’s early and his voice always takes on a lower timber right after sleep, but his voice sounds down-right growly at the moment.

 

Dean closes his eyes and leans forward to press his forehead to Castiel’s shoulder. He must have lost his shirt sometime in the fray, because Dean’s skin feels blistering against his own. They’re on their sides facing each other, sheet pulled up to Dean’s stomach, sharing each other’s warmth and breathing each other’s air. He can feel the little push and pull of air against his shoulder as Dean scents him again.

 

“Like I- Woah.” Dean croaks. Coughing slightly to clear his throat, when he speaks again it’s only slightly less hoarse. “Fuck. Like I got hit by a bus, man. I haven’t felt this sore since- ”

 

His eyes pop open wide to see if Cas caught his slip. By the way that the man was looking at him expectantly, he definitely had. _Fuck_ , he hadn’t meant to say that last part. Had _never_ planned on saying that out loud.

 

“Since when, Dean?” Cas prompts gently when Dean doesn’t try to continue.

 

Does he lie? Or go with the truth? After all they’d been through, especially in the last twenty-four hours, it wouldn’t feel right to lie. But the truth was fucking embarrassing! Maybe if he changed the subject he could avoid lying _and_ telling the truth.

 

“Dean,” Cas says, stroking his fingers across his cheek again, “You can tell me anything.”

 

Fuck, with puppy dog eyes again?…The truth it is then.

 

“Uhh,” he coughs self-consciously, ducking his head against Cas’s shoulder. “Uh, I haven’t felt this sore since…since the night we met.”

 

Blinking away his surprise, Castiel can see the flush to Dean’s cheeks- this time colored by embarrassment rather than heat, and his heart constricts at the sights along with Dean’s words. He pulls Dean closer, placing a hand on his lower back, and he feels Dean shiver at the touch. Still touch sensitive then.

 

“You were so angry with me,” Cas whispers into Dean’s hair, apologetic. “I didn’t know what to do other than respect your wish for space. I didn’t want to leave you.”

 

“Yeah, I didn’t really give you a choice now, did I?” Dean mutters. Cas’s hands on his face and his back feel really fucking good. He can feel his eyes starting to close again. “Sorry about that by the way.”

 

“It’s in the past. I’m sorry you were uncomfortable,” Cas says softly, his voice like a caress of it’s own. Instantly, his embarrassment begins to ebb as he sinks into the Cas’s hold. That hadn’t been as bad as he thought it’d be.

 

“ _Are_ uncomfortable,” Cas corrects himself after a second. “Is there anything I can do?”

 

Snickering quietly and sliding his hands against the flat planes of Castiel’s chest, Dean shakes his head. “I think you did enough, big guy. Besides, it’s like being sick. You feel hot, your body aches, head feels foggy, and your throat- ”

 

“I wouldn’t attribute your throat being sore from your heat though,” Cas interrupts, smirking, “It’s from - ”

 

Dean eyes snap open again. “I know what it’s from!” he says quickly, cheeks burning again. “You can shuttup now.”

 

Chuckling softly, Castiel decides to give him a break and not push it. Last night would not easily be forgotten, but the sounds that spilled from Dean’s mouth…They were burned into his brain. He never wanted to forget them. And he wanted to hear them again. Again and again and again.

 

“Anywaaay,” Dean continues, obviously trying to recover. “Like being sick. There’s nothing you can do about it. I feel fine right now, I mean I can think straight for once.”

 

“That’s good Dean.”

 

“Does that mean its over?” Dean asks hopefully. He couldn’t remember how many days it had been, and he wasn’t too sure on how long they were supposed to last. Already he was looking forward to putting this whole crapfest behind him.

 

Cas leans down to nose at Dean’s throat, scenting the distinct smell of heat there; the potent smell of it traveling right down to his dick. They definitely weren’t out of the woods yet.

 

“I’m afraid not, Dean,” Castiel says. “Although it seems like you’re done with the worst of it. When did you start feeling symptoms?”

 

“A few hours after you left I guess,” Dean sighs, nuzzling back unconsciously. Dean seems a lot more openly affectionate while in heat, Castiel notes. “As soon as I woke up, I just felt _off._ I don’t even know how I got to work.”

 

“ _Dean_ ,” Cas says sharply, “You should have contacted me immediately, and you definitely should not have gotten behind the wheel. What if you had gotten into an accident?!  You and the pup could’ve - ”

 

“I know! Okay? I know,” Dean cuts in, unable to handle the concern in Cas’s voice. “Shit. I wasn’t thinking. I _couldn’t_ think. It was all a fucking blur, but mostly I was uhhh…Just freaking the fuck out,” he says meekly.

 

Cas softens while the arms around Dean tighten. “I know this must’ve been hard on you, I know it can’t have been easy to deal with after so long. But I hate the thought of you trying to go through it by yourself.”

 

“I called you, didn’t I?” Dean mumbles quietly into Cas’s skin, so quietly he’s not sure he was meant to hear it.

 

“Yes, you did,” he says, “But you said you started showing symptoms what, Friday? You waited almost twenty-four hours, in pain I might add, to reach out. Can’t you see something wrong with this picture, Dean?”

 

Dean doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t feel the need to say anything else because he can tell Dean is thinking over his words. That’s all he wants. For Dean to be aware of the fact that he would always come when Dean called. Dean and their child are unquestionably his number one priority, and the sooner that fact got through Dean’s stubborn skull, the better.

 

“But the baby,” Dean finally whispers, voice shaking. “It’s alright, isn’t it? I was too scared to even think - ”

 

“Yes Dean,” Cas hurries to reassure him. “The pup is fine. You both smell healthy and well,” he says, shifting his hand to run light fingers across Dean’s belly.

 

“God, fuck,” Dean sighs in relief, covering Cas’s fingers with his own. “Thank god. I remember thinking for a second- at the beginning- that this meant I lost it. I couldn’t fucking live with myself…”Dean trails off.

 

The scent of distress trickles through the air, the first real scent to break through the smell of heat, and Castiel wished it were anything but this. Leaning forward to kiss the spot on Dean’s brow where it’d been knitted together, he puts more strength in to his touches, stroking Dean’s stomach more firmly. Dean closes his eyes.

 

“Shhh…” Cas whispers. “Both of you are okay, Dean, I promise. Omegas, especially male Omegas do tend to experience heats during their pregnancies. They will typically last around three days, but since you’ve been suppressing yours for so long now, I suspect you have about a day and a half left. The first two days are usually the strongest though, the hardest on the body, so I’m hopeful the rest of your time going forward will be more pleasant.”

 

“Fuck me! Another day and a half of this shit?” Dean groans. “Just when I thought this couldn’t get any worse.”

 

“Dean. I already told you. I will not fuck you during your heat,” he says seriously.

 

He’s thoroughly satisfied when Dean jerks his head back to look up at him with shock written all over his face He holds his face placid for two more seconds before he can’t hold it in anymore. Snorting slightly as his breath hitches in his chest, the silly sound just makes the laughs comes faster now, come harder. Throwing his head back with the impression of Dean’s surprised face behind his eyelids, Castiel laughs harder than he has in a long time.

 

At first, Dean just looks at him in disbelief, but after he ran the words back over in his head, he can’t help but chuckle a little bit himself. Fucking Cas. He could definitely deliver the punch with a straight face, that was for damn sure.

 

When Cas can breathe again, he smiles into Dean’s skin, pulling him closer so that Dean is cradled to his chest and the small gap between them becomes nonexistent.

 

“I apologize,” Cas says, still grinning. “In the process of trying to ‘lighten the mood’ as it were, I managed lose myself. I hope I wasn’t too inappropriate?”

 

Dean shakes his head in awe. “Who the fuck are you, man? One minute you’re making me see fucking stars, and the next you’re apologizing for saying the word fuck. Don’t get me wrong or anything, I like it, but you kinda make my head spin sometimes.”

 

“I do?” he asks, curious, pondering over previous encounters. “Are you talking about in bed? Or in general?”

 

“In general.” Dean says, but he seems to think better of it because he mutters, “But yeah, in bed. Mostly in bed.”

 

“I see. So maybe experiencing a heat isn’t too horrible?” he asks hopefully.

 

With time he hopes to prove to Dean the perks of going through a heat rather than the downsides. With a partner, heats are known to heighten sexual experiences. It was only in denying the bodies urges that things went downhill rapidly.

 

Dean rolls his eyes. “I think the state of my throat right now is answer enough, I guess.  But I think that’s just you, not the heat. You musta been lying that first night, man. And I’m not buying your bullshit anymore. There is no way you ‘don’t do this very often’,” he quotes Cas from that very first night. “Come on Cas. Tell the truth.”

 

Smiling hearing his own words repeated back to him, he’s at least glad that Dean is comfortable enough to bring up some part of that night.

 

“I haven’t lied to you, Dean,” Cas says, continuing to stroke circles into Dean’s stomach. “I have rarely entered into a long-term relationship, and the list of people I’ve _been_ with is relatively short. I by no means denied myself gratification, but I just didn’t have the time or desire to seek out anything substantial with those particular relationships. Additionally, my partners, or most of them, were put off due to the hours I put in at work.”

 

“So what? You’re saying you’re a no-strings attached kind of guy?” Dean scoffs. “I don’t think so, dude. Not from what I’ve seen. Something is not adding up.”

 

“You do have that effect on me,” Castiel says, amused at how Dean had completely missed the point. “Dean,” he says slowly, “You do realize what you mean to me, don’t you?”

 

“Cas,” Dean groans, poking him squarely in the chest. “We are _not_ having a chick-fick-moment. I fucking refuse. Besides,” Dean shifts uncomfortably for a second, and Castiel suddenly knows what Dean is going to say before he says it, “I can feel it coming.”

 

They both knew what “it” meant.

 

Now wasn’t the time to discuss his feelings for Dean. Not only was Dean not ready, but he didn’t want this discussion to be associated with Dean’s heat. Once again he had to remind himself that they had time.

 

Taking a deep breath- and yes, he could smell another wave quickly approaching- he leans in to mouth at Dean’s neck; tasting salt and sweat and heat and _Dean._

 

Dean shifts his legs together to alleviate the building pressure, but if anything it makes it worse. The wet sound Cas’s lips are making on his neck has heat coiling in his stomach, every cell on his body slowly turning to fire as Cas barely scrapes his teeth against sensitive skin.

 

“What do you want, Dean?” Cas whispers in his ear, sending goose bumps up his spine. Warms hands are making their way around him again, pulling him closer, and Dean is suddenly very fucking overwhelmed.

 

“Jesus Christ, dude,” Dean gasps, trying to awkwardly pull the sheet up to cover his chest and the rest of his body. “How the fuck do you flip that Alpha switch so fucking fast?”

 

“What were the words you just said, Dean?” Cas murmurs, lips ghosting against his neck still, “That you _like_ it? I’m simply asking what you want, beautiful.”

 

“Okay, wait. This is really fucking weird when I’m not loopy,” Dean pants, fingers curling into the material still. Cas’s tongue brushes his skin and they both groan as slick begins to trickle out of him again.

 

“This is a good thing. I want you to feel every second, Dean,” Cas says. “Let me take care of you.”

 

Again with those fucking words. They make him uncomfortable, but at the same time, they make something in his stomach unravel in something like relief. It’s a tiny thought, a secret, hidden yearning, something he’d tucked away inside himself to never contemplate, but…it’s nice to have someone actually care about him.

 

Cas gently takes the sheet from his stiff fingers, and suddenly Cas is rolling them until Dean is on his back with Cas kneeling over him, carefully keeping his weight from crushing Dean. But every part of them is still touching, Cas is still mouthing at his neck, and Dean’s eyes widen when his legs automatically shift to make room for Cas in between them.

 

What. The. Fuck.

 

To say that being on his back with someone on top of him was weird would be an understatement. He’s tense for a second, feeling lost, scrambling for something familiar.

 

He was always on top. The one controlling things, the one making his partner scream so loud she’d have a sore throat the next day.

 

And it was only at this point that he realized that that hadn’t been his roll in his encounters with Cas. They may have been on their sides, or with Cas behind him, but Cas had _always_ been the one running the show. Cas hadn’t needed to be on top to be the biggest presence in the room. And that wasn’t even counting yesterday.

 

But as Cas slowly begins kissing down his body, sending shivers throughout every part of him, he comes to another realization.

 

He maybe, kind of sorta… likes it?

 

Likes the way Cas makes him feel. Likes the feeling of Cas on top of him. He’d never fucking saying it out loud, but by the way he’s suddenly relaxing at Cas’s touch, he’s pretty much broadcasting his approval none the less.

 

“You don’t have to hide from me, Dean,” Cas is saying, taking the sheet with him as he starts focusing his attention on Dean’s collarbone. “I can tell you’re thinking too hard,” he nips at the juncture where shoulder meets neck, “stop it.”

 

Hesitantly, Dean’s hands leave the bed to tangle themselves gently in Cas’s hair; long locks feeling soft as he weaves his fingers through it. But his fingers tighten unconsciously when Cas suddenly licks a long stripe across one of his nipples.

 

“Son of a bitch,” he hisses, hips twitching up as Cas does it again.

 

Cas smirks at him triumphantly and sucks the hard peak of one into his mouth, reaching to pinch the other one with the hand that was not slowly making its way between his legs.

 

“Oh fuck,” he moans as Cas switches to sucking the other one. Who fucking knew men’s nipples were this fucking sensitive?!

 

He had always slept with women, so his nipples had never been the ones to garner attention, but now? Holy fuck.

 

Gripping Cas’s head tight to his chest where he’s nipping and sucking and all together driving Dean insane, Dean can confidently say that it’s here. The wave or whatever it is. He’s gasping, clenching his eyes closed in pleasure, and that’s before Cas’s other hand loosely circles his dick.

 

Arching his spine, he groans as Cas strokes him up and down, torn between wanting more and wanting _more._ As in Cas’s fingers venturing lower.

 

He remembers all the shit that went down last night, but vaguely, like there’d been a kind of mist or haze over the memory. The thing that stood out the most though…he remembers very fucking clearly.

 

“Cas,” he pants, almost slurring his words. He’s embarrassingly close to losing his shit already, and Cas hasn’t even really touched him yet. “C’mere.”

 

Biting the nipple in his mouth lightly one last time, Castiel lets Dean drag him by his hair to crash their lips together. It’s messy, and biting, and _perfect._

 

He pulls away when Dean is panting too hard to participate in the kiss, and whispers again, “What do you want, Dean?”

 

He kisses Dean’s throat “Do you want me here?” he asks quietly. He keeps moving down, licking at Dean’s kiss swollen nipples. “Do you want me to kiss here?”

 

Dean starts to squirm underneath him, trying and failing to trap Cas in place with his thighs. Laughing quietly to himself, Castiel keeps moving. Only placing a gentle kiss on the swell of Dean’s stomach before moving lower.

 

Sucking kisses into the juncture of his thigh, first one side then the other, he ignores Dean erection for a second, which is angry and red and curling towards Dean’s stomach. By the way Dean is pushing his head down lower, Dean doesn’t want him to stop there.

 

“Is this what you want Dean?” he asks huskily, leaning in to lick quickly across the head.

 

Precome is drooling from the slit, but it’s nothing compared to the slick he can scent coming from Dean. With one hand he lazily jacks Dean, but with the other, he slowly rubs two fingers up and down the seam of Dean’s crack; rubbing the slick into Dean’s skin, spreading it, and inching lower.

 

A shutter runs through Dean as he shifts his legs apart, biting his lips so hard he tastes blood.

 

“Or maybe here?”

 

His mouth parts on a startled moan as Cas brushes his hole, trying to clench down but there’s nothing there. Cas is only rubbing his two fingers over it, fucking teasing him. One tip of one finger presses lightly against his opening, rubbing a tiny circle that him keening loudly, teeth breaking free from hips. Keeping it there, Cas repositions himself while Dean is distracted; spreading Dean’s legs wider and making more space for himself so that he’s eye level with Dean’s dick.

 

“You haven’t said anything, Dean,” Cas says, the tone of his voice light and teasing. “I guess I must have been mistaken. You obviously want this,” he says before removing his hands and sucking the tip of Dean’s erection into his mouth.

 

Shaking his head in frustration, but unable to voice his disappointment, the pleasure versus his longing closing up his throat, Dean attempts to pull Cas off of him. Pushing him down again.

 

“No?” Cas murmurs in amusement, “Is there something specific you want, Dean? You’re going to have to speak up. Tell me Dean. What do you want?”

 

“You fucking _asshole_ ,” Dean gasps finally, cheeks flushing. “ _Down.”_

 

“Of course, Dean,” Cas softens, and Dean things that’ll be the end of it; Cas will finally do what he needs to do and they can move on.

 

But he was wrong.

 

Going back to the light strokes over his hole, sending pulses of electricity through him, not pushing in the way he needs, Cas stares up at him with dark eyes almost black with lust.

 

“Here, Dean?” Cas whispers, only barely pushing one tip of a finger inside him. “Do you want my fingers here?” He’s suddenly ducking to lick where his finger just was, right over his rim, causing Dean cry out. “Or do you want my mouth?”

 

“Yes!” Dean pants desperately, “Fuck yes! Just do it already!”

 

“I’m only going to ask you one more time, beautiful,” Cas says, then whispers, “ _What_ do you _want_ , Dean?”

 

One more lick to his quivering hole breaks his resolve, has him abandoning his pride, has his world fucking tilting.

 

“You’re mouth-“ he moans brokenly, thrusting his hips up against Cas’s face. “Please- fuck! I- I want you’re mouth on my h-”

 

But he can’t finish. It seems Cas really was just waiting for Dean’s words, because he’s suddenly hiking Dean’s hips up- bending him- to get better access in order to lick into Dean’s ass.

 

Dean cries out again, louder than before, his throat aching, but he can’t stop.

 

Cas’s tongue is hot and wet and moving just right inside him; curling against his rim before withdrawing to suck at his entrance as a whole.

 

He’s not sure if it’s his heat or just his instincts, but his cheeks keep spasming around every part of Cas, trying to suck Cas in deeper. His fingers as well, as they’re currently trying to force Cas’s face closer and closer.

 

“Ahhh ahhh,” Dean moans, frantically working his hips as Cas starts to wiggle his tongue just inside his opening. For a second he remembers he should shut the fuck up, should be embarrassed by how much he’s enjoying this, but that second passes quickly, and he’s using his free hand to pull his leg up higher to spread himself more for Cas’s tongue.

 

“Oh fuck Cas, _yes!”_ he shouts hoarsely, voice cracking.

 

And then Cas fucking _hums_ against his sensitive flesh, tongue still inside him, and Dean is coming hard- this time fully aware that he’s the one screaming in the middle of the fucking morning.

 

It’s long seconds or possibly minutes before he opens his eyes again, blinking with heavy eyelids. Raising his where it’d been cushioned on his pillow, he looks down to see Cas still between his legs. Only he’d moved up the bed some and was now lying with his eyes closed, head gently resting on Dean’s stomach.

 

Smiling to himself, still a tiny bit groggy from his orgasmic high, he runs his fingers through Cas’s hair.

 

“Hey,” he croaks.

 

God his voiced is shot to hell.

 

Cas opens his eyes and looks up at him, smiling back and turning to press a kiss against his skin. “Hello, Dean,” he murmurs.

 

“What time issit’?” he wonders aloud, ignoring his alarm clock and looking around for his phone. He lost it sometime yesterday, and it has yet to make a reappearance.

 

“It’s _time_ ,” Cas pointedly, “For us to shower and eat. When I stated earlier that the both of you smelled healthy and well, I should have also mentioned that you smell like sex,” Cas finishes with a fond smirk, rising on to his elbows.

 

“Newsflash buddy, _so do you_ ,” Dean says.

 

“That’s why I said it’s time for ‘us’ to shower, rather than just you.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Rolling his eyes, Cas sits up and takes both of Dean’s hands, pulling him up with him as he goes. Cas has him up and out of bed so fast, he forgets to grab a sheet or something to cover up the fact that he’s completely nude while Cas still has his boxers and socks on.

 

Fuck it, he thinks, especially after the way he’d just embarrassed himself, he’d be surprised if anything made him blush every again.

 

Keeping his hand very firmly in, Cas leads them to the shower, only letting go of Dean’s hand when he leans down to turn on the water. It’s only then that he remembers something.

 

Cas is turning back around to smile at him when Dean asks, “Hey Cas? I don’t get it man, why did you say to stay away from the bath tub?”

 

Watching Cas’s face immediately darken, he wonders for a shocked second if Cas is angry with him.

 

But Cas only takes a few steps forward until he’s close enough to cradle Dean’s face between both hands, eyes hard and grave. “That is the place that you retreat to when your thoughts turn the most dark, Dean. I’ve witnessed it myself, and it’s somewhere I don’t ever want you to go again. Here,” he says, tapping a finger against the side of Dean’s forehead, “As well as physically.” He nods to the tub.

 

“Dude, it’s not even like that,” he starts to argue defensively, even though he _knows_ it’s exactly like that. But Cas places a finger over his lips, silencing him.

 

“After you shower. You can argue with me then,” Cas murmurs softly. “You’re waves seems to be coming in much longer intervals now, so we should have plenty of time. And more importantly…you smell. That should be your first priority.”

 

“Hey! I’m not the one with dried come all over their boxers!”

 

“Dean, this is _yours.”_

 

“Semantics,” Dean scoffs, tugging on them. “Off. Socks too.”

 

Their shower is quick work after that, stepping under the hot water and feeling it wash away the thick, disgusting layer of slick and sweat he’d accumulated over the last couple of days. It’s surprisingly not weird to share a shower with another grown ass man, and he finds he kind of likes the way Cas looks soaking wet. He gets caught staring as Cas rinses shampoo out of his hair, but Cas just fucking winks at him and leans into kiss away Dean’s shock.

 

There is a second early on when he notices Cas’s semi-hard dick, knot almost deflated completely as it’s tuck between hanging and standing tall. Which leads to Cas sheepishly explaining how he hadn’t gone completely unsatisfied while helping Dean through his heat. He’d kind of felt like a douche bag for neglecting Cas’s own need, so he was actually pretty relieved at seeing Cas’s dick. Who knew.

 

They end their shower on a softer note, Cas taking special care to wash over every part of Dean’s stomach even though Dean had insisted he could do it himself, and they kiss once more with both their hands over the gentle swell before exiting the shower completely as the steam continues to cling to their skin.

 

They dress in boxers and t-shirts, backs turned to each other, sneaking secret smiles over shoulders when they think the other isn’t looking.

 

Basically, Dean feels like a fucking teenager again. Only it’s not some random chick smiling shyly back at him as they make their way, shoulders bumping, to the kitchen. It’s a fucking crazy ass, compassionate, loyal, and _sweet_ Alpha. It’s Cas.

Castiel, the man who fucking booked it all the way from Denver to help Dean through his heat. The man who’d dropped everything as soon as Dean needed him.

 

If he had to be in this situation, he’s pretty fucking grateful it’s with Cas.

 

 

 

 

Cas makes him eat a million eggs, two pieces of toast, a bunch of colorful fruit, yogurt, two glasses of water with his pills, and even tries to coax him into eating some sautéed broccoli he’d sneakily hidden in the eggs. He didn’t even know he owned all this shit, let alone _broccoli._

 

By the time he’s finally done eating, and Cas is satisfied that he’d eaten the proper amount of nutrients or whatever, Dean is about ready to KO again.

 

Sleepily washing the dishes while Cas bags up the left overs, the both freeze when someone starts to bang on the front door.

 

“Dean!” a very fucking familiar voice calls. “Dean, open the door! I didn’t come all this way for you to ignore me again!”

 

Spinning around to stare at the front door with wide eyes, he’s not even aware of the cup in his fingers slipping from his grasp and shattering all around him.

 

“Dean! Come on, man!” his brother yells, because how could he mistake the sound of Sam’s voice? “I know you’re in there, I can see the car out front. Dean!”

 

Fuck. He can’t move, every muscles frozen in shock.

 

Talking to Sam hadn’t been a dream then, hadn’t been a fucking heat delusion. His brother was really here, outside his door, all the way from California.

 

Fucking hell, he was screwed.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAHA the moment you've all been waiting for! The next chapter will come after I'm done with finals, so wish me luck!
> 
> And if any of you guys are interested, come visit me on twitter at https://twitter.com/AbiChristineee ! I don't talk about my work there, but I'd love to hear from you!


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure what y'all were expecting for this chapter, but this was always the plan. It was meant to be longer, but it kind of got out of control, so I promise whatever you're missing *hint hint will be in the next chapter! This is going to be a long ass story you guys, and I hope you're down for the long haul!

 

 

Blinking rapidly, mind going blank for at least a full minute, he’s about to take a step forward- either towards the door, or more likely back to his bedroom where there’s a lock on the door- when Cas’s sharp voice breaks him out of his stupor.

 

“Dean! Do _not_ move. Stay right where you are, I’ll be right back, alright?”

 

Oh right. He dropped the cup he was holding. There was glass everywhere, and he was barefoot.

 

When Cas realizes that Dean has heard him, he turns and leaves the room, ignoring for the moment the continued banging on the front door. When he returns though, he’s wearing a pair of low-slung jeans as well as his work shoes.

 

Not having spoken a single word since the sudden appearance of his little brother, Dean doesn’t argue when Cas walks through the glass to gently scoop him up, however unmanly that may be. Placing an arm under his knees and around his back, Cas carries him freak’in bridal style over to the tiny kitchen table, kicking out one of the chairs and sitting him down in it.

 

Cas takes his face between both hands, bending over slightly to meet Dean’s eyes. Snapping Dean’s attention to dark blue instead of the red fear sending chills down his spine.

 

They both turn slightly as they hear, “Dean…Come on. At least let me know you’re alright.”

 

But then Cas’s thumb is smoothing over Dean’s lip to gain back his attention.

 

“Dean,” Cas says softly, in his worried voice Dean can tell, “What’s going on? Who is that?”

 

When Dean doesn’t answer right away, Cas leans into his space to kiss his forehead, scenting the distress and panic coming off of every inch of his skin Automatically, Cas’s hackles start to rise, bristling, in reaction to Dean’s obvious fear, and Cas’s scent thickens like a shield- a shield made of over-protective Alpha.

 

Clenching his eyes closed against Cas’s concern, he rasps, “It’s my brother. Fuck, it’s Sam.”

 

Cas blinks in shock. “Your brother? Dean, why is your brother here, unannounced, all the way from California?” he asks incredulously.

 

He has every right to be confused. Dean was confused. That was part of the reason he was so afraid now, because he had no fucking clue what was happening.

 

“Dean! Dean? Dean Winchester, I swear I’m going to kick your ass if you’re still sleeping…” Sam trails off, muttering, still knocking on the door. Cas growls quietly in his throat in warning at the threat, but Dean knows Sam is mostly joking. Fuck, he now had two Alphas in close proximity to each other. Again.

 

“Shit,” Dean hisses, opening his eyes to stare up at Cas. “Cas I- I think I answered the phone the last time he called.”

 

Cas still looks confused. “And?”

 

“He called yesterday,” Dean says, flushing and looking down at his knees. “It was uh- right before I called you.”

 

Castiel’s eyes widen in understanding. “I see.”

 

“DEAN. Just open the door so we can talk. I know I owe you an apology, but you won’t pick up your stupid phone. Come on, man, I must’ve left you at least a hundred messages…” Sam says, letting up on the knocking while he’s speaking, then getting right back to it.

 

His breathing starts to come quick as he stares back up at Cas.

 

“He can’t see me like this, Cas,” he says in a desperate whisper, pleading with his eyes for Cas to understand. “Not like this. He has no idea what he just walked into.”

 

“Dean, there’s nothing wrong with you,” Cas starts defensively, predictably. Dean rolls his eyes.

 

“I’m in heat, dumb ass,” Dean deadpans, narrowing his eyes at Cas, forgetting for a second that his brother is still knocking on the door and that he was two seconds away from a panic attack.

 

And _finally_ , Cas is the one flushing in embarrassment, tan cheeks barely tinted with a little pink, and Dean wishes there was more cause for victory.

 

“Cas,” he says, hating that he sounds like he’s begging, “Cas. I need you to tell him I can’t talk to him. Please man, just tell him to leave and come back in a few days or something.”

 

“Of course, Dean,” Cas reassures him softly, leaning down to kiss his forehead again before straightening up and heading for the door with his shoulders squared.

 

Dean gets to his feet too, but it’s only to stand behind the wall dividing the kitchen from the entry way so that he’s hidden but can still mostly see what’s going on. Hearing, on the other hand, will another problem all on it’s own.

 

Cas cracks the door open only enough for his head to poke out, interrupting Sam mid-knock. Cas murmurs something in a low voice, and Dean thinks he won’t be able to hear anything being said, until Sam all but shouts, “Who are you? And where is my brother?”

 

Shit, Sam sounded _pissed._

 

He sees Cas’s shoulders tense, immediately on the defensive, and this time Dean can hear it as Cas bites out, “I already told you, Dean can’t speak with you at the moment, he’s - ”

 

But Cas doesn’t get to finish his sentence, because all of a sudden Dean feels like he’s experiencing déjà vu with his and Cas’s roles horribly reversed.

 

Cas must’ve seen it coming more so than Dean had though, because Cas is ducking to the left fast as Sam throws a punch at him. He avoids the worst of it, Sam only managing to clip him on the chin at the last minute with his follow through, but the momentum of the hit still throws Cas off balance; sending Cas crashing into the door, head impacting with it’s corner _hard,_ sending the door flying into the wall only to bounce back and hit the back of Cas’s head again.

 

“Hey,” Dean snarls, already taking long strides towards the door without thinking about it. Anger, red hot and all consuming, has him completely ignoring Sam’s wide, shocked eyes as he takes Dean in, sees Dean’s stomach, sees _Dean_ for the first time in months. For once fucking second, Dean forgets that’s his brother standing underneath the door-frame. But then again, no one that fucking stupid was anything other than a Winchester.

 

“What the _hell_ is your problem, man?” he yells at Sam, shoving him, floppy hair and all, outside the door as hard as he fucking can, sending Sam stumbling outside in shock. “You come here fucking guns blazing, _just like Dad_ , and think you’re entitled to shit?! What were you _thinking?!_ ”

 

“D-Dean? I thought…” Sam stutters.

 

He doesn’t wait for Sam’s answer, doesn’t wait to think about what he’s doing or what this means before he’s spinning around to face Cas, angling himself in front of him, putting himself between Cas and Sam, before taking Cas’s face in his hands.

 

Cas’s eyes are shocked as well, but he’s already trying to step around Dean to put himself in Dean’s protective stance; every instinct telling him he needs to protect Dean. And maybe Dean would have let him, if those same instincts weren’t screaming at Dean to do the same thing. Cas was his to protect.

 

“Dean, I’m fine,” Cas says in warning, trying to shake off Dean’s hand, eyes hopping from Dean to Sam cautiously.

 

“No Cas,” Dean says firmly, turning the man’s face left and right to take in the damage.

 

“ _Dean_ ,”Sam wheezes desperately behind Dean’s back. “Dean are you- oh my _god-_ you are, aren’t you?!”

 

“Shut up, Sam,” Dean snaps, angling Cas’s head down to feel around the back of his head, running his fingers through his still damp hair. He pauses when Cas winces, lightly brushing against his scalp where there’s a steadily growing bump growing. When he pulls his fingers away, there’s a tiny bit of blood on his fingers.

 

Sam watches the two of them with eyes about to bug out his head. He has no idea what’s happening, or if this is even real life. There is no way in hell that Dean- _his brother_ \- could be pregnant. With his back turned, he could only see his side profile. But here he was, clearly round around the middle and smelling like he was mated. And something else that kind of made him want to puke. His mind was blanking completely as he watched Dean worry over the man who must be Cas. And the way they were looking at each other…

 

“Can someone please tell me what’s going on, here?” Sam squawk, throwing his hands in the air as he’s completely ignored.

 

“I could ask you the same fucking question, dude,” Dean says angrily, still facing away from Sam, checking for more blood hidden in Cas’s hair. “What are you even doing here? I thought I made it very clear that I did not want to talk to you.”

 

He’s still in too much shock to get mad. “Dean, you sounded like you were dying,” Sam pleads, “And you wouldn’t pick up your phone again, no matter how many times I tried. I had to make sure you were alright.”

 

“So you come here, throwing punches?!” Dean spits, turning to face Sam finally, and Sam gets his first real look at Dean. The man automatically follows close behind him, standing rigidly only a few inches from Dean’s back. “He didn’t do anything to you, man!”

 

Mouth gaping, Sam can’t tear his eyes away from Dean’s protruding stomach, only covered by a thin gray t-shirt. His limbs feel numb, and he can feel his throat starting close up.

 

“Sam!” Dean snaps impatiently. “You better start explaining yourself real quick, because I don’t have time for this bullshit.”

 

Clearing his throat loudly and wiping away the sudden moisture at the corner of his eyes, Sam tries to remember what Dean was asking him.

 

“Dean…my god, how could you not tell me you’re pregnant? All this time - ” Sam chokes. But if anything, Dean looks even more angry.

 

“No Sam. You don’t get to come here, hurt him, and then start asking questions,” Dean says heatedly, words coming fast. “You lost that privilege when you decided to pull a dad. So we’re not gonna talk about that. We’re gonna talk about _this._ So I’ll say it again. What the _hell dude_?!”

 

“But- but _Dean._ You’re….He said I couldn’t see you! He’s an Alpha, and I- I know how you feel about them. I thought he wouldn’t _let_ you speak with me, Dean,” Sam tries to explain breathlessly, unnerved by all the anger directed at him. He had ben protecting his brother, hadn’t he?

 

“Let me?” Dean echoes, narrowing his eyes dangerously. “Do you seriously think I’d let _anyone_ tell me what to do, Sam? Alpha or not, there’s no way in hell and you should’ve already known that.”

 

“Then why didn’t you answer the door, Dean? Why did _he_ tell me you couldn’t talk? I don’t understand!” Sam says in frustration, confusion level going even further through the roof as the man behind Dean takes a step forward to place his hands on Dean’s waist, and Dean _lets_ him.

 

He was obviously missing something, because this man couldn’t be the same Alpha who his dad had told him about. When he’d first answered the door, he’d had this icy look about him, and Sam had automatically thought; _asshole._ And when he’d very plainly told him that Dean couldn’t speak with him, Sam thought that the man in front of him had to be a traditionalist. One of those Alpha’s who were stuck in the past, but you still heard about them every once in a while. Controlling every single aspect of their Omega’s lives, treating them like second-class citizens, completely dominant.

 

He’d reacted on instinct then. Thinking he was protecting Dean, that he would be helping Dean by kicking this dude to the curb.

 

So imagine his surprise when Dean comes rushing to this guy’s defense- _pregnant_ for god sakes- and the guy makes a similar fuss over protecting _Dean._ From _him._ His mind was a little slow on the go with everything that had happened, but he was starting to get that he’d messed up.

 

“Because I’m in heat, moron,” Dean says in exasperation, proud of himself when his cheeks don’t darken at his words. His anger is starting to drain as Cas steadies him with a firm grip around his hips. “ _I_ asked him to tell you that.”

 

Cas is okay, and now he needs to talk to his brother.

 

While Dean’s cheeks may have remained the same color for once, Sam’s cheeks immediately turn pink, and then white as all the color drains from his face.

 

The wind blows icily outside for a second, and Cas pulls him in closer to his body instinctively, forgetting Dean’s skin is still nice and warm from his heat. Sam, on the other hand, doesn’t react to the way it pushes his long hair into his face. He’s looking between the two of them, mouth opening and closing repeatedly as horror takes over his features. Fuck, he’s got tears in his eyes again.

 

“Oh god, I’m…” Sam starts, blinking rapidly. “Dean, I’m _so-so_ sorry. I can’t even begin to say…”

 

Now that his anger is gone, Dean’s emotions are all over the place. And seeing his little brother looking so upset has him biting his lip and thinking about how he can make Sam feel better.

 

Shaking his head to clear it when he feels one of Cas’s fingers start to rub lightly at his skin, he hardens his resolve. The situation from before Cas had answered the door hadn’t changed. And Sam needed to realize that he couldn’t just do whatever he wanted, even if he’d thought it was in Dean’s best interest at the time.

 

“Sam I - ”

 

“Wait Dean,” Sam says, and then takes a deep breathe. “Let me just say that I’m sorry for everything. I wasn’t using my head. Today, or that last time on the phone all those months ago. I don’t even…” Sam trails off, eyes wet, throat working, “I don’t even know what I was thinking. And because of my stupid mistake, I missed this.”

 

He gestures with his hand to Dean.

 

“I can’t even be mad at you for not telling me,” Sam’s voice breaks, “Because I lost your trust. Another reason to apologize,” Sam laughs without a trace of humor. “So again, I am so sorry, Dean. For everything. If you’re willing, I mean if it’s okay, I’d really like to redeem myself to you.”

 

Clenching his eyes closed and leaning back into Cas, he can tell that their time with Sam needs to be coming to end soon if he want to end the day with his dignity. But it wouldn’t feel right to just send Sam on his way, especially because anybody could see that the kid meant every word he was saying now.

 

“I know you are, Sammy,” he sighs. “That’s why I’m giving you a second chance. ‘Cuz we sure as shit aren’t talking now. You gotta leave, man. Go to Bobby’s, stay in a hotel, I don’t know, I just need time. You give me two days, and we can talk things over and have as many chick-flick-moments as you want.”

 

Sam chuckles lightly and smiles at him, but their conversation doesn’t feel finished yet.

 

“Oh and Cas will be there,” he pats the hands holding his hips and turns to look over his shoulder, smirking when he catches Cas glaring at Sam. “If you got a problem with him, then don’t bother coming.”

 

Sam winces, looking to Cas. “That apology was meant to include you as well, man. I don’t have a problem with you so long as you’re treating my brother right,” Sam smirks as Dean rolls his eyes and scoffs, “I owe you one.”

 

Cas’s glare lessens only a little bit, but it still feels like a huge improvement. Dean will fucking take it.

 

“Yeah you do. But next time,” Dean says, reaching for the door. “You guys can be properly introduced and all that shit then. We gotta go Sam,” he says pointedly, hoping Sam will catch the hint.

 

Sam’s cheeks darken in understanding, and he automatically takes a step back.

 

“Okay. I’ll uh- have my phone. I guess I’ll see you guys in a few days,” he says with a little awkward wave before he’s turning on his heal and walking quickly towards the stairs.

 

Dean watches him go with a sigh of relief. As soon as his shaggy mop disappears completely, he shuts the door and leans his head against it, closing his eyes.

 

Arms encircle him completely, warm breath ghosts over his neck as Cas kisses it, and Dean is sighing again for a different reason as he covers Cas’s arms with his own. Their scents mingle again as they had this morning, but Dean’s still a little bit stressed and he can tell that Cas is trying to relax him.

 

“Why are you trying to comfort me dude,” Dean murmurs to him. “You’re the one that got punched this time.”

 

“I’d much rather it be me than you,” Cas tells him simply, speaking for the first time in what feels like forever. Cas had amazing control on his temper apparently, because he hadn’t trying to join in his conversation with Sam at all. Content to sit back and glare at Sam threateningly as long as his own blood was the only one shed.

 

Biting his lip at the thought of the little bit of blood that had collected where the door had made contact with Cas’s head, he gently unfolds himself from Cas’s arms to turn around and face him.

 

“Fuck, Cas,” he whispers, reaching up to cradle Cas’s face again. “I can’t believe that happened. I never would’ve asked you to get the d - ”

 

Cas silences him with a kiss. Slanting his head side-ways to slot their mouths together just right. Arms wind their around Dean’s waist again, and he uses that hold to bring them flush against each other.

 

Cas pulls away and grins, brushing his nose lightly with Dean’s. “At least I can say I’ve survived meeting all of your family now.”

 

“Barely,” Dean mutters, raising his fingers to ghost over the lump on the back of Cas’s head. Cas doesn’t wince this time.

 

“I’m fine,” Cas reassures him, “He barely made contact.”

 

“Yeah, about that. Are you some kind of doctor by day, ninja by night or something? Because no offense dude, you don’t really _look_ like you could hold your own. Now I know differently,” he smirks, raising his eyebrows when Cas squints at him, “but you gotta share your secret man.”

 

“My secret?” Cas says thoughtfully, looking at the ceiling for a second before his eyes fall on Dean again. He’s not so sure he likes that look on Cas’s face. “When I’m not with you in the mornings, I run and lift. But when I _am_ in your company, I can think of another way to get some cardio in.”

 

He gets one more look at the dangerous glint to his eyes before Cas is squatting down in front of him, using the angle to lift Dean by the backs of his thighs, hefting him quickly but gently into the air like it’s nothing.

 

“What the _fuck_ ,” Dean gasps as he’s forced into wrapping his arms around Cas’s neck if he doesn’t want to fall. He may dig his nails into Cas’s back a little more than necessary as Cas starts to fucking walk. “Put me down fucker, this isn’t funny!”

 

“I’m not going to drop you Dean,” Cas huffs, gripping Dean’s thighs tighter. He feels Dean’s inner thighs squeezing him around his middle in doubt. They’ve come a long way, but Dean still doesn’t trust him completely. He can smell another wave approaching swiftly though, so he doesn’t dawdle, heading straight for the bedroom.

 

He can tell the situation with Dean’s brother had stressed Dean out, and what better way to distract him than by quenching his heat?

 

“I fucking hate you,” Dean grumbles into his ear. “You’re fucking lucky you just got punched in the face or else I’d do the honors myself.”

 

“Is that so?” Cas chuckles, nudging Dean’s bedroom door open with his foot.

 

“Yes _that is so_ ,” Dean mimics Cas’s voice, making it all deep and ridiculous. “Fucking fight me, Cas.”

 

Laying Dean back on the bed, he’s about to straighten up when Dean locks his ankles around his back, preventing him from leaving. Bracing himself on either side of Dean’s shoulders, Castiel stares down at Dean while Dean smirks up at him. Oddly enough, their positions stir a memory from their first night together, and Castiel can’t help the spike of lust the thought ignites.

 

Leaning down to nose at Dean’s throat, he whispers, “I don’t think you’d like to pick a fight with me, Dean. I’m not above playing dirty,” he uses his leverage over Dean to grind down against him to emphasize his point.

 

Dean hisses, still ridiculously oversensitive, and clutches Cas’s hair hard.

 

Too hard.

 

He can see that Cas is uncomfortable by the way his eyes scrunch up, but Cas doesn’t verbally acknowledge that Dean is hurting him. Cas is probably afraid of hurting his fucking feelings or something. Loosening his grip until he’s only gently running his fingers through Cas’s soft hair, he doesn’t even realize he’s bearing his throat to Cas’s attention until he feels the gentle scrape of teeth right under the hinge of his jaw. He unconsciously tightens his legs around Cas’s waist, hips jerking to feel Cas’s hardness against his own.

 

“Fight me,” Dean says again before biting his lip.

 

The angle they’re at his awkward and not really ideal in terms of friction, but neither tries to shift into a more comfortable position, and they make it work. Cas is kissing him all over, on his neck, on his lips, all over his face as he thrusts down and into Dean.

 

At first Dean is content to rub their erections together through the thin material of his boxers and the rough material of Cas’s jeans, but after a few minutes of barely there pleasure, he urges Cas back enough to shimmy down his jeans. As soon as they’re far enough down his thighs, Cas is back in place again, only this time, lower. Fitting himself against Dean’s ass to where he can feel slick soaking through the material.

 

Biting his lip hard to keep in his moans again as Cas starts thrusting against him, panting into Dean’s neck in between kisses, Dean closes his eyes and lets the wave of heat take over. Lets another thought enter his mind, of a situation just like this, only less clothing and a lot more skin on skin.

 

Groaning when Cas’s dick brushes his hole, he thinks about how it would feel to have Cas inside him again. Filling him the way he body was demanding; hot and hard, and so big he thought there was no way he’d fit.

 

Grabbing Cas’s ass with both hands, surprising the Alpha above him completely, Dean pulls Cas in hard with his next thrust, gasping as he gets more pressure against his clenching hole. Cas does it again and again, loving the sweet sounds that spill out of Dean when he hits his target. He continues to rub his erection against Dean, but slips his fingers underneath the waistband of Dean’s boxers to add a finger into the mix. And then two. Then three when Dean starts to moan so loud Castiel is sure Dean’s neighbors can hear.

 

Dean’s slick coats his fingers as he thrusts them in and out, and he’s tempted to lick the sweetness off his fingers if not directly from it’s source like he’d discovered Dean likes very much. But Dean’s too close, too desperate for Castiel to stop now, and so is he. Though he’s embarrassed to admit it, rubbing his cock against Dean had been enough to inch him close to the edge, caught up in Dean’s raw pleasure and the scent of lust clinging to his skin.

 

When Dean comes, crying out softly as his muscles clamp down on Castiel’s fingers as Castiel works him through it, Castiel watches his face in awe. Dean is so beautiful it hurts; face twisted in ecstasy, eyes closed, his cheeks and neck flushed in arousal.

 

When Dean opens his eyes again, he has the usual look of dazed and relaxed as he smiles a tiny smile up at Cas. Castiel wants to smile back, wants to kiss that smile and make it into a smile that lights up Dean’s face, but he can’t. He’s so close to the edge, panting desperately as he tries not to crowd Dean, tries to control his hips to not make it so obvious. But Dean sees through him in an instant. It’s the first time that Dean’s been aware enough during his heat to realize Castiel getting off, and he’s unsure of how he’ll react.

 

He shouldn’t have worried.

 

Dean hikes up his hips around Cas’s back, hissing when the fingers still inside him shift a little, but pulls Cas in closer, whispering, “C’mon Cas. Come.”

 

Clenching his eyes firmly shut, Castiel thrusts only four more times against Dean before he’s coming in his boxers like a teenager; Dean stroking his hair through it the entire time.

 

 

 

 

“We’re a mess,” Castiel whispers to Dean sometime later when things have settled a bit more, and they’re tangled up underneath the sheets- sweaty and already in need of another shower.

 

Today had really not gone to plan.

 

“You’re fuck’in right we are,” Dean agrees immediately from his spot on Cas’s chest. “But hey, at least we’re never boring.”

 

Cas kisses Dean’s forehead.

 

“And who knows, if all goes well with Sam, maybe we can add another member to Team Free Will?” Dean asks sleepily. He’d come at least four times today, he thinks he’s entitled to his exhaustion, and therefor his groggy ramblings.

 

“Team free will?” Cas asks, and Dean can hear the amusement in his voice.

 

“Mmhmm. So far it’s me and you and whatever this kid decides it wants to be,” he mumbles, patting his stomach. Closing his eyes and rubbing it, he says, “Kick once for boy, kick twice for girl.”

 

Dean waits a few beats but there’s no movement. “Of course.”

 

Laughing quietly at Dean’s antics, Castiel shakes his head, pulling Dean closer to him. “I’m sure everything will turn out with Sam. And I know for a fact that everything will turn out with our little one.”

 

“If you say so.”

 

Tipping Dean’s chin up to place a single, chaste kiss to his lips, he whispers, “Good-night Dean.”

 

“G’night Cas.”

 

 

 

 

The rest of Dean’s heat passes in a haze of lust, exhaustion, and stress. Cas had been determined to make the most of every wave, and Dean was hard pressed to remember a time when it hadn’t felt fucking mind-blowing. Even the second to last wave when Cas had coaxed him into using his own fingers. He’d been fucking embarrassed at first, but after seeing the look in Cas’s eyes as he fucked himself on two of his fingers, he couldn’t remember why he hadn’t tried this before.

 

Cas had been so into it, he’d crawled between Dean’s legs to watch where Dean’s fingers disappeared, and when he couldn’t handle keeping his hands to himself any longer, he’d leaned in to lick a long stripe around Dean’s digits, tongue brushing his rim _just enough_ to set Dean off. Needless to say, the next and last time Dean’s heat hit, it ended with Cas’s tongue and mouth alone, with Dean coming untouched and almost sobbing as his most intense release came and went.

 

They knew his heat was officially over when Dean woke up from where he was dozing on the far side of the bed, shivering, and desperately trying to seek out Castiel’s warmth. 

He was sore and fucking exhausted still, but his usual level of exhaustion compared to the heavy, all-consuming exhaustion of heat. Cas reassured him that he'd only need a day or two to recuperate, but he'd fucking take as long as it took if meant that it was over. He needed to put this behind him.

 

And after a long shower, it was time to face the music.

 

He hadn’t seen the point of looking for his phone until his heat was over, so now here he was, on his hands and knees with his head tilted at an uncomfortable angle, trying to search for the ugly menace.

 

When he comes up empty handed and frustrated, he turns to Cas who is busy stripping the sheets and humming quietly under his breath.

 

“Hey can I borrow your phone real quick? I got mine on vibrate, so I wanna call it,” Dean asks him.

 

“Of course, Dean,” Cas says, reaching into his back pocket and handing it to Dean. Having finished with the sheets, Cas picks up the laundry basket they’ve started with all the things they’d dirtied during his heat and heads towards the living room where Dean _knows_ at least a few articles of clothing lie, abandoned.

 

Pressing the top little button of Cas’s iphone like he’s seen Cas do a thousand times, he’s about to drag his thumb across the screen to call his phone when he notices Cas’s screensaver.

 

It’s a picture of the ultrasound.

 

Smiling to himself, he presses the button again when the picture fades.

 

Fucking Cas. Making him feel things and shit. That was all he needed today, to start crying before Sam even got here. Sam was supposed to be the sensitive one, not him.

 

Clearing his throat quickly when he hears Cas’s footsteps coming back towards the bedroom, he swipes hurriedly and brings up Cas’s contacts.; finding his number alone under his list of favorites.

 

Rolling his eyes, almost surprised to find that there weren’t any hearts next to his name or something gross like that, he presses his name and is relieved to hear the distinct sound of his phone vibrating from underneath his nightstand.

 

Closing Cas’s phone, he tosses it back to him, noting the strange look Cas is aiming at him.

 

“What?” he mutters self-consciously, glad that he has the excuse of reaching under the nightstand to get his phone.

 

“You smell…overwhelmed?” Cas says uncertainly, tilting his head in confusion as he inhales.

 

“Yeah well, I wonder why,” he snaps defensively, keeping his back to Cas to hide his blush. Cas didn’t need to know why he was feeling particularly sentimental. He’d said ‘overwhelmed,’ and he definitely was that.

 

“Dean,” Cas says softly, “he’s your brother. And he obviously cares about you very much. Like you said, we could just be adding another member to team free will.”

 

Snorting loudly and finally turning to catch the tail-end of Cas’s smirk, he shakes his head at himself and laughs under his breath. “I can’t believe I said that.”

 

“Don’t worry, I won’t be letting you forget anytime soon,” Cas teases.

 

Dean very maturely flips him off before shooting Sam a quick text, ignoring all the notifications of the numerous missed calls and texts that had accumulated over the last couple of days. He’s surprised his phone has enough battery to turn on, to be honest.

 

And he’s surprised when not a minute later he gets a message from Sam saying he’ll be here in 10.

  

“Dean,” Cas reprimands, grabbing one of Dean’s hands and pulling him to his feet, “Calm down. Everything is going to be fine.”

 

“That’s easy for you to say,” Dean grumbles, reluctantly getting to his feet. “ _You’re_ not the one that looks like they’ve swallowed a fucking watermelon. And you’re not the one who had their fucking brother present while in heat.”

 

“Actually, I have gone into a rut whilst visiting my brother in New York,” Cas says, wincing. “It made for an…interesting visit to be sure.”

 

“That’s not even the same thing dude, you’re an Alp - oh,” he trails off when he’s interrupted by a tiny kick to the top of his stomach.

 

It’s the first time he’s really felt the pup move since before his heat.

 

Smiling and breathing a sigh of relief, he forgets what he was about to say to Cas. Turning to sit down on the bed, he rubs at the spot he felt the kick, making a small circle with the palm of his hand and using his fingers to lightly stoke the skin.

 

“Hey you,” he mumbles, conscious of the way Cas is watching him. “Sorry about the last few days buddy- I gotta admit, I kinda missed your kicks.”

 

“Is it? Did it move right now?” Cas asks softly, hopefully.

 

“Yeah, c’mere,” Dean waves him over without looking up.

 

Cas sits next to him, as close as friggin possible of course, and one hand goes to Dean’s lower back while the other immediately touches Dean’s stomach right under the hand Dean is still rubbing circles with.

 

They both sit in silence for a moment with nothing happening, both rubbing Dean’s stomach to try encourage another kick with no success.

 

“Talk,” Dean whispers to Cas, smiling when Cas looks up at him with wide eyes. “C’mon man, it likes your voice.”

 

Cas gives him a look that clearly says _I see through your bullshit,_ but he clears his throat regardless.

 

“Hello little one, it’s been too long since I’ve talked to you last. I hope you aren’t angry with me,” he hesitates, looking to Dean again. Dean nods in encouragement. “Would you be even more angry at me if I let your father name you Big Bird? It doesn’t sound like a proper first name to me, maybe a middle name? What do you - ”

 

The pup kicks, stopping Cas mid-sentence, and for a second Dean imagines the kick meaning _alright I get it, shut up now dad._

 

Dean bites back his laugh as Cas’s entire face lights up with excitement, leaning closer and murmuring apologies, and, “Of course we’d never name you Big Bird.”

 

It’s like this every single time, this excitement. And he hadn’t realized how much he’d fucking missed this the past couple of days until now.

 

“Ok pup,” Dean starts, trying to contain his excitement. “Let’s try this again, okay? Kick once for boy, kick twice for girl…Alright, go!”

 

Dean and Cas wait with baited breath, Dean closing one eye and leaning his ear down towards his belly.

 

Aaaaaand….there’s a knock at the door.

 

Dean glares down at his stomach accusingly, thinking _Pup-2, Dad-0._

 

“This isn’t over,” he promises, rising to get the door with Cas hot on his heels. He can almost feel Cas’s eye roll.

 

Opening the door this time with Cas safely behind him, he’s ready this time. He can do this; no heat, no violence, no more bullshit.

 

But seeing Sam’s face, his first thought is; I _can’t_ do this.

 

Sam is looking at him with those _fucking_ puppy dog eyes, all wide and sincere, and purely _Sam._ God, he’s already got tears in them for god’s sake.

 

“Sam,” he says cautiously, sounding like a warning. Cas is probably confused as hell watching this awkward stand off, but Dean knows what’s going on. And so does Sam.

 

“Dean,” Sam replies, tone pleading, making his eyes even wider if possible.

 

Dean holds his ground for thirty more seconds before he relents.

 

“Alright,” he sighs, trying to sound as put-out as possible, “Come here.”

 

Sam steps forward immediately, embracing Dean hard, fucking swallowing him up with his huge moose limbs.

 

"I never would've guessed... God, Dean..You look amazing," Sam whispers

 

“You just had to do it, didn’t you,” Dean mutters, but it’s only to cover up how suddenly emotional he’s feeling. Despite everything that’s happened between them, he’d really missed his brother.

 

Sam chuckles wetly, and Dean pats him roughly on the pack twice before holding him at arm’s length.

 

“Thank you, Dean,” Sam says. “Thanks for giving me a second chance. I won’t let you down.”

 

“I believe you,” Dean responds, but he steps back. “Speaking of second chances though, lets start with him. Cas, this is my brother Sam. Sam this is my- uh this is Cas.”

 

Pushing Cas forward slightly to cover up his slip, he’s glad the two of them are too distracted by sizing each other up to notice it.

 

He’d almost introduced Cas as his Alpha.

 

He’s never said those words out loud, never even really thought them, so he was a little fucking confused as to where that had come from. The heat must’ve gotten to his head or some shit, because that was not even remotely okay.

 

Sam breaks their weird stare-down first, lowering his eyes in a sign of respect, and offering his hand for Cas to shake.

 

“Cas,” Sam says hesitantly, “I’d like to apologize once again for my behavior. I lost my head. Sometimes I don’t think when I’m trying to protect the ones I love.”

 

Cas takes his hand. “I understand. I have the same problem,” Cas says, and he looks to Dean as the two of them shake hands firmly. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Sam.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy holidays guys! Thank you SO much for supporting me this year and this story, it's been amazing, and I look forward to next year being even better!


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys had an awesome christmas- if you celebrate it- and I hope all of you have a happy new year! Got high hopes for 2016!

 

 

“Dean…what the hell happened?”

 

They’re all sitting on Dean’s only couch, Sam on the left side, Cas on the right. Putting him directly in the middle. They had a lot of shit to get through, so he’d thought it best if everyone was sitting down. Plus he was fucking exhausted, and standing was not an option, and the chairs in the kitchen were hard on his back.

 

“Ain’t that the mother of all loaded questions,” Dean leans back into the cushions and sighs. He can feel Cas’s warmth radiating off of him to his left, a solid presence, and he inches a little closer before continuing, “Where should I start?”

 

“The pup,” Sam says immediately, without a second’s hesitation, eyes darting from Dean’s eyes to his stomach and then back again.

 

The attention to his bump has him immediately on the defensive. “You mean what happened to get to this point? Sammy,” he scoffs, smirking in the way he knows Sam hates, “I didn’t think I’d have to have the birds and the bees talk with you at this age, man. What do you and Jess do every night, hmm? Play monopoly?”

 

“Dean,” Sam says seriously. He’s sporting half a bitch face, but the other half is twisted with sympathy; like he knows Dean doesn’t want to talk about this but he’s going to make him anyway. “…you told me you never wanted kids.”

 

His bravado deflates at Sam’s genuine confusion. Because Sam was right, he’d always told Sam after he’d presented that he didn’t want any children. The purpose, or the function or whatever of a male omega was for reproduction; so that the ability to conceive and birth children would not belong exclusively to females and therefor yield a higher birth rate. ‘Omega’ and ‘child rearing’ was pretty much synonymous.

 

He’d thought if he could distance himself from the very _idea_ of children, then maybe he could distance himself from what he was and was expected to be.

 

But that was in the past. Things were different now.

 

“I didn’t. Not like this anyway,” Dean said quietly, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck in an attempt to lessen the weight of two pairs of eyes trained intensely on him. “But uh…I’m cool with it now.”

 

“But _how_ Dean _?_ ” Sam asks incredulously, leaning towards Dean with his hands on his knees. “Don’t get me wrong, this is like the best news ever, but if you could have heard yourself a few years ago - ”

 

“How _what_ , Sam?” Dean cuts him off. “This wasn’t exactly a _planned_ decision- if you know what I mean. Things got out of control for a while; I got sick, things with dad hit the fan - ”

 

“So the mess with dad happened _before_ all this,” Sam breaks in. He nods like he’s confirming something he’d already guessed. “I need to hear this from your perspective, Dean, because I’m obviously missing a few details from dad’s side.”

 

“Yeah I heard what you thought about dad’s _perspective_ ,” Dean mutters petulantly. Cas, who’s noticeably kept quiet, places a gentle on Dean’s shoulder.

 

“Dean,” Sam says, a regretful hitch to his voice, “You have to know how sorry I am about what I said. The second the words left my mouth I regretted them. Do you know Jess gave me the cold shoulder for a _week_ after I finally told her what I said to you? She’s an Omega too, Dean, you aren’t the only one I disappointed.”

 

He’d known Jess was an omega of course, but he hadn’t even thought about applying Sam’s words to her. Unlike being a male omega, female omegas were normal- freak’in _accepted-_ and that’s not just comparatively speaking. Female omegas were sought after from the very beginning, so Dean had internalized Sam’s words as an insult on his kind only, omega males only. Knowing that Jess took offense as well had him liking her even more. It’d been too long since he’d seen that girl.

 

Pursing his lips together he shrugs it off. “Whatever. Dad thought I was faking being sick to run around and play house with some Alpha. He called to tell me I was a bitch, that I was basically worthless, and that he was too embarrassed by me to call me his son any longer,” he spouts matter-of-factly.

 

“Your father said this to you, Dean?” Cas asks quietly, anger coloring his voice and scent. “When was this?”

 

Oh right, Sam wasn’t the only one who probably had a million questions to ask about that night and his fallout with John. Cas had blindly accepted that Dean had had his own reasons for being drunk that night, and despite having lost his own brother that day, he’d still worked hard to coax a smile out of Dean. Their beginning may have been rocky, but at least Cas had never given him any reason not to trust his character.

 

Sam’s face had gone pale, horror and shock dominating every feature on his face, but Dean can’t understand how he’s surprised. John had never really been subtle with the way he’d treated Dean. Sam was intentionally _choosing_ to be blind- and didn’t that sting? So he turns to smirk at Cas.

 

“The night we met, naturally,” he says, not a little sarcastically. “I wanted to get hammered and I’m pretty sure I did that, and then some.”

 

“Dean…” Cas whispers, reaching up to cradle Dean’s face with one hand, eyes soft with understanding. If it was pity reflected in Cas’s eyes he might have been a little more reluctant to give into the touch in front of his little brother, but Cas always knew what to project on his face and scent to make him feel better rather than worse.

 

He leans into the touch with a small smile before turning back around when he hears a pointed throat clear.

 

“I wish you would have told me, Dean. I had no idea,” Sam murmurs looking between the two of them, confusion warring with maybe a tiny bit of hurt. “I knew dad was a…hard man to get a long with, but this is a new low, even for him.”

 

“A _new low_?” Dean laughs hollowly, shaking his head in dark amusement. “You must be fucking joking Sam. He’s been snarking things like that at me for _years._ I didn’t think I’d _needed_ to tell you all the shit John spouts word-for-word for you to finally get it. A new low wasn’t when he tried to write me off- it hurt yeah- but it wasn’t exactly a surprise. A new low is when he drove his ass here and decked me in the face for no other reason than his own prejudice.”

 

He can feel the tips of his ears turning bright red as he finally voices his anger to someone who knows his father. Cas always listened and empathized, but it wasn’t as satisfying as watching understanding blossom across his little brother’s face.

 

“He said that you attacked him,” he rasps, nodding to Cas. “I thought he’d hit you afterwards, in self-defense… Dean, I - ”

 

“Why are fucking defending him?” Dean snarls, ignoring the hand going to his lower back as he leans forward to glare at Sam.

 

“I’m not! I swear I’m not, Dean. I’m just trying to underst-”

 

“Understand what?! That you’ve been blindly idolizing a man who is single handedly responsible for fucking over a huge chunk of my life? Or the fact that you didn’t even listen to me when I tried to explain that Cas was _protecting_ me when _dad_ went on the attack?!” he spits heatedly. “Does he really look like a guy who would go looking to pick a fight, man?”

 

They both look over to Cas who has now worked an arm around Dean’s waist, and is now in the process of trying to pull him closer, worry and concern wafting off the Alpha in reaction to Dean’s stress and anger. He’d been pulling Dean close to himself, eyes squinted up at Dean, focused entirely on protecting and soothing rather than the words being said.He pauses when he realizes they’re both staring at him.

 

“Dean, you don’t need to be under any undue stress. Especially so soon after the stress you’ve been under the last few days.” Cas says, casting a pointed look at Sam. “I suggest the topic of conversation be switched to something less vexing.”

 

“See,” Dean says, turning to roll his eyes at Sam. “He’s one track-minded. This guy is all bark and no bite… _Except_ when provoked. ‘Cuz holy shit, you shoulda been there when he kicked dad’s ass,” he chuckles fondly.

 

Sam smiles but it doesn’t really touch his eyes which are zoomed in to focus on Cas’s arms around Dean.

 

“I do see it now,” Sam says softly. “And I’m glad Cas was there.”

 

“So am I,” Cas mutters darkly, fingers tightening around Dean. “John Winchester is a deplorable man who had- _has-_ no business here. He was fortunate that he was able to walk away when I was through with him.”

 

“Cas,” Dean snorts loudly, “You’re Alpha side is showing. You better put it away before I swoon in ladylike appreciation.”

 

Sam laughs, the sound finally breaking up the palpable tension in the room while Cas’s chest shakes in an effort not to join in. He knows Dean is funny, he probably just refuses to give in due to his manly Alpha pride most likely.

 

Shivering when he finally realizes how cold he’s gotten while sitting in the living room in only sweatpants and a long sleeve, he leans into Cas’s warmth a little when his waning anger fails to keep him warm any longer. It’s fucking freezing in here, how had no one noticed?

 

“Casti _el_ ,” he groans when Cas stands up, stealing his hard won warmth. He sounds like a sulky child to even his own ears, but hey, he never claimed to be the master of maturity.

 

Cas smiles down at him. “I’ll be right back, Dean. It’s past noon, do you want something to eat? Sam?”

 

“Uh, sure,” Sam says uncertainly, meeting Dean’s eyes like he’s asking permission. Dean just nods.

 

“Alright, I’ll be quick,” he says, running his fingers through Dean’s hair once before leaving- Dean’s cheeks turn a little pink in his brother’s presence, but he can’t help smiling a little at the gesture. He’s not heading in the direction of the kitchen though, curiously enough.

 

Sam looks like he’s about to start speaking, but Dean holds up a single finger to shush him into waiting. Narrowing his eyes at the sound of Cas’s footsteps making their way back into the living room, Cas doesn’t come back empty handed. He’s carrying Dean’s thick comforter, the only thing really safe from Dean’s heat since it’d been way too stifling on his skin.

 

Now though, when Cas offers it to him, he snatches it greedily out of his hands and covers his legs and hands immediately, sighing gratefully and clutching it close.

 

“Thanks man.”

 

“Of course, Dean,” Cas smiles again before finally heading off into the kitchen. He waits until he can’t see his bedhead anymore before turning wide eyes to his brother’s, whose are just as wide as his own.

 

“What the hell dude?” Dean says incredulously, feeling his eyebrows pretty much touching his hairline.

 

“I don’t know,” Sam huffs raising his hands in surrender. There’s a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth though, so Dean thinks that he _does_ know.

 

“No seriously- what the hell?”

 

“I don’t know,” Sam laughs, over pronouncing each word while moving his hands up and down.

 

“How the hell is this my liiiiiiife,” he groans in exasperation, bringing the blanket up to cover his face.

 

He hadn’t realized just how close he and Cas had gotten until he had an outside party here to make him see out of the little bubble they’d created since the pup. Now, seeing _them_ with new eyes was fucking trippy. They just got each other on a different level, but that wasn’t something he could really explain to his brother whom he’d never hid his romantic aversion to all things Alpha(and all things gay really). Having Sam here was bringing it all back, the hatred, the denial, the automatic need to make himself bigger in his little brother’s eyes. Only this time he could see all of that negativity for what it is; poison.

 

“I don’t know, but uh - ” Sam says through his smile, “I think you’ve done pretty well for yourself, Dean.”

 

Dean blinks in shock from under the blanket still. “Yeah?” he mumbles hesitantly.

 

“Yeah,” Sam agrees. “I’ve never seen you- I mean if I _could_ see you,” he rolls his eyes at Dean’s shape from underneath the comforter, “I’ve never seen you so…content? Peaceful? I don’t know man, but it’s good.”

 

Dean lowers the blanket to glare suspiciously at Sam.

 

“Are you just saying that because I’m fat now?”

 

Sam throws his head back, a full body laugh that his him shaking his head at Dean, trying to catch his breath. “What?” he gasps, “Dean, you’re not fat! You’re friggin pregnant!”

 

“Same thing,” Dean grumbles under his breath.

 

“Dean, I wasn’t lying before,” Sam says once he’s gotten his breathing back under his control. “You seriously look amazing. One could even say that you’re….glowing.”

 

Dean groans and leans over to shove at Sam, who’s busy laughing his ass off yet again.

 

“No, dude. Just no,” he says firmly.

 

“Okay, okay,” Sam chuckles, leaning back against the couch and crossing one leg at the ankle. “We don’t have a lot of time,” he says, eyes darting over in the direction of the kitchen, “So Cas. Castiel? _That’s_ a mouthful. He seems…nice? Reacted reasonably well to getting punched,” he winces.

 

Dean glares at the reminder, but he can’t stay mad when thinking about the man making them lunch right now. Cas was just so…. _Cas._ There was so many things he’d associate with the man, but anger wasn’t one of them. Although he _can_ stay embarrassed for a good long while, he thinks in horror as his face and neck flush. He does _not_ want to talk about his damn feelings, uh-uh, no way.

 

“Yeah, Cas is great,” he manages to mutter, painfully aware of the sharp scrutiny he’s under right now.

 

“Great as in, future mate, great? Or friends with benefits gone wrong, great? Because you guys wreak of mates already, but I don’t see any mating marks. I guess you could have them other places,” he goes on, gesturing at Dean with one hand, “But I’d be seriously pissed if you didn’t tell me that _too.”_

 

“What are you even- what? You think I? That we-me? NO,” Dean stutters frantically, tripping over his words. “We’re not _mates_ , Sam.”

 

“But someday maybe?” Sam presses. “You gotta be thinking about it, Dean. Especially with the pup…I’d always hoped you’d find someone...” he trails off with a smile.

 

“You always hoped I’d find myself a good, strong Alpha to look after me?” Dean asks, sharper than he intended, but Sam’s face still goes soft.

 

“No, Dean. It didn’t have to be an Alpha. Just…y’know, someone who would make you happy.”

 

Dean feels his chest going all gooey for a second, smile stretching across his face before he’s even aware that it’s happening. It was times like that these that he was so fucking grateful to have a brother like Sam. Yeah they had their rough patches, but deep down, they were fucking family and they loved each other unconditionally. And right now, he was feeling a little, _tiny_ bit grateful for that god awful phone call that brought his little brother back into his life.

 

The pup musta picked up on the good times vibes going through him right now, because he feels a small kick a second later. His smile remains fixed on his face as he automatically rubs a hand across the spot.

 

He must’ve stayed silent too long, wrapped up in the feeling of random little kicks to realize that Sam was staring at him curiously.

 

“What are you - ”

 

Sam’s words die in his throat as Dean drops the blanket he’d been gripping to his chest absently, letting it fall into his lap as both hands go to cradle his bump. He was probably a sight to see, that was for sure, but he couldn’t really bring himself to care at the moment.

 

“Dean, can you…can you feel anything?” Sam asks hesitantly.

 

Blinking out of his pup induced daze, he clears his throat awkwardly, aware that he was visibly fawning. “Uh- yeah. I started feeling kicks a few weeks ago. You- you wanna feel?” he asks, feeling extremely insecure. It wasn’t a big deal or anything, he wouldn’t be surprised if Sam said no, he wouldn’t even care-

 

“Yes,” Sam says quickly, and Dean mentally sighs in relief. “I’d love that.”

 

“Well then come here then, you big goof,” Dean waves him over, smiling a bit as Sam’s face lights up with child-like excitement.

 

Sam scoots over until their knees brush, but then hesitates, hand stuck frozen between them but not touching. Biting his lip, he slowly reaches over to grab Sam’s hand before bringing it to rest gently against the spot he felt the baby last kick. And sure enough, they’re both grinning as the pup immediately kicks again against Sam’s palm.

 

“Wow,” Sam whispers in awe, eyes and smile wide. “Dean, this is…”

 

“I know,” Dean finishes for him.

 

“Woah,” Sam croons louder when they both feel a particularly strong flutter compared to the others, “That was a big kick little guy- girl? Wait. Dean do you know what you’re having?!”

 

“The hell if I know, dude,” Dean groans dramatically. “This kid’s life mission is obviously to stress me out. We got an ultrasound done a few days ago, but no dice.”

 

“But you’re definitely keeping it then?”

 

Dean automatically flinches away from the question, leaning back just enough to so that Sam gets the picture and retracts his hand, looking a little hurt. Carefully laying his palm across the top of his stomach where Sam had been feeling for kicks, he narrows his eyes at Sam.

 

“What? You think I’d end it this far into it, dude?” Dean bites, suddenly feeling emotional at the thought. “You really think I could do that?”

 

“No Dean,” Sam rushes to defend himself, “that’s not what I meant at all. I just know that you said this wasn’t a planned pregnancy. And alcohol was definitely part of the equation. I was asking if maybe you planned on giving it up for adoption?”

 

That almost sounded as bad as the other option. Cradling his stomach with both hands now and staring down at them, he can’t fathom how he’d come so close to giving this up before. There was a little person inside of him. _His_ little person. But then again, maybe he was being too harsh on Sam; because there was no way Sam could understand everything he’s been and going through.

 

“Sorry,” Dean mutters self-consciously, extremely aware that he probably sounds crazy. “I’m still kinda all over the place. I didn’t mean to snap at you. But uh- to answer your question… there is no way in _hell_ that I’d give up this pup. It’s probably the stupidest plan there is, but I’m sticking to it. Sign me the fuck up.”

 

Sam laughs at his wording, and that little smile, the one that is all Sammy, makes an appearance complete with slightly watering eyes.

 

“It’s okay, Dean. I’m,” Sam clears his throat, looking up at the ceiling before continuing roughly. “I’m really proud of you, man.”

 

Heat abrubtly flashes down his spine and fills his chest as a familiar burn begins behind his eyes, so much pressure that he has to blink rapidly in order to prevent any stupid ass tears from falling. A little gasp passes through his lips when Sam smiles at him with so much _pride_ , the first time he’s ever really seen that look on his brother’s face, and Dean’s next breath is pretty much a choked sob.

 

What with his pup kicking, Sam’s approval, and just with Sam _being there_ , it’s all too much for him to take in. There’s so much _relief_. It wasn’t till now that he’d realized how much Sam’s opinion actually mattered to him. All this time he’d been holding on to Sam’s words, justifying his silence towards him because of them, but under that he’d been silently stewing over the bigger issue here, centered around Sam being in the dark about the changes his life had been subjected to. Part of him had been afraid that even if he had picked up the phone and spilled his guts, Sam would still end up rejecting him. Hearing otherwise now was a huge weight being lifted from his shoulders.

 

A single tear slips out the corner of his eye as his vision blurs, and he tries to turn away, to breath, to gather himself, but he barely sees movement in his peripheral vision, and there’s suddenly an overgrown man-child hugging the shit out of him.

 

“Awwww c’mon man. You can’t say that shit to me and then _hug_ me,” Dean groans shakily, bottom lip trembling with the effort.

 

“Shut up and let it happen you jerk,” Sam mumbles against his shoulder, squeezing him harder.

 

“Bitch,” Dean says back, but sounding entirely too fond for his liking.

 

The baby kicks again and they pull apart- Sam smirking, Dean wiping quickly at his eyes like he’s hiding the evidence of his emotions.

 

“Can I?” Sam pleads holding up his hand to hover over Dean’s stomach again in question. When Dean just nods, still too preoccupied with saving face, Sam uses both his hands this time to feel his bump.

 

“I don’t think it likes you swearing, Dean,” Sam says through his smile, raising his eyebrows at him.

 

“Yeah? Well fuck you,” he mutters, chuckling wetly when he immediately feels another kick.

 

“See! You don’t even have to be out of the womb yet to know that Uncle Sam is always right,” Sam says excitedly, ignoring Dean’s eye roll. “Wow. I’m going to be an uncle…” he lapses into silence for a minute or two while he touches Dean’s stomach softly. “Never thought I’d be saying that. This is crazy, Dean- how far along are you right now?!”

 

“Uhhh-”

 

“Dean is nineteen weeks as of Saturday,” Cas answers for him, entering the room while balancing two bowls and three plates precariously between both hands.

 

Sam immediately jumps to his feet, offering his hands to help grab something, but Cas only very gracefully hands over one plate with one bowl on top of it.

 

“I made tomato soup and grilled cheeses. I’d advise caution with the soup though since it’s still extremely hot,” Cas warns. Placing the other dishes on the tiny coffee table in front of the couch, he takes a seat besides Dean, searching Dean’s face for a moment before handing Dean his food.

 

His red eyes and pink nose probably give him away, but Cas doesn’t comment, only situates himself closer so that their sides are firmly pressed together. Sighing in relief at the feeling of Cas’s warmth, he stares longingly into his soup; feeling his mouth water, but not enough to risk a spoonful with the way steam continues to rise from it. He’d only eaten that huge breakfast a couple of hours ago, but he’s already starving and more than ready to dig in.

 

“What he said,” Dean manages belatedly, “Nineteen weeks or whatever. Is the sandwich okay to eat now?” he asks Cas impatiently.

 

“It should be.”

 

“Sweet.”

 

He’s already through two of his six gooey triangles before he realizes that both Sam and Cas are watching him in amusement. It’s almost eerie how similar both their grins are, and Dean does not like it at all.

 

“What?” he grumbles through a huge mouthful of grilled cheese. “I’m eating away my feelings.”

 

“You’re fine, Dean,” Sam says simply, finally reaching for his own lunch.

 

Cas purses his lips together like he wants to say something, but at the last minute changes his mind, leaning into Dean instead to press a kiss to the side of Dean’s forehead. Swallowing his bite roughly, he turns to catch Cas’s little smile as the man grabs the other plate and takes a much smaller bite of his sandwich then Dean had.

 

“You made soup, but you’re not gonna eat any?” Dean mutters, feeling shy all of a sudden.

 

“I don’t particularly enjoy it, no, but I know you do,” Cas says. “And I was hoping your brother would share your taste?”

 

“Yeah, this is great- thanks,” Sam chimes in quickly.

 

Hoping to direct the attention to Sam instead of himself, he snorts. “Don’t lie, Sammy. You’re probably wishing for a big _healthy_ salad right now, aren’t you?” he teases. “Sam here, is all for ‘going green’ or whatever those hipsters are calling it these days, isn’t that right?”

 

Spluttering into his soup, Sam almost chokes on a laugh as he looks incredulously at Dean. Titling his head to the side, he mouths “hipsters?” like it’s the first time he’s ever heard the word.

 

“While I don’t understand how eating healthy can be construed as an insult,” Cas says in confusion, “I’m glad at least _one_ of you knows the merits of eating a balanced diet.”

 

Sam laughs again, shooting Dean a smug look while Dean turns on Cas in betrayal.

 

“Dude- they’re _green_. Nothing natural is the color green. Just look at the hulk,” he argues, glaring at Cas.

 

“Do you even realize what you just said?” Cas squints at him. “Nothing natural is the color green? Does that mean the grass or trees or plants are not natural?”

 

“Okay, smart ass, you know what I mean,” Dean mutters petulantly, cheeks darkening a bit. He hurriedly brings a mouthful of soup to his mouth so that he won’t say anything else stupid.

 

“Your eyes are green, Dean,” Cas says softly. “And green is my favorite color, so no, I don’t think I know what you mean.”

 

“His aversion to all things even remotely healthy started way back,” Sam supplies helpfully, and Dean turns his glare onto him. “Probably didn’t help that we were taught to eat everything on our plates before we could leave the table. Dean used to sit there for hours, just staring at his spinach and or broccoli.”

 

“I swear to god that was the only time I actually wanted a dog,” Dean shakes his head, remembering a time where everything was so much fucking easier. “But anyway, if this kid is anything like me, I won’t be the only one who is pro pizza over green shit.”

 

“Wait- we need to back-track. You’re nineteen weeks?” Sam brings a hand up to run his fingers through his hair like he’s stressed. “I missed so much! When did you guys know?”

 

“Uhhhh…” Dean and Cas look at each other. “Funny story actually… Cas is kinda of a doctor. Didn’t know it at the time, but when I kept puking my guts up everyday, I got an appointment with this nerdy little dude,” Dean chuckles, nudging Cas with his shoulder.

 

“ _You_ told Dean that he was-?” Sam thunders with wide eyes.

 

“Yes. But by the time he’d come in to the office, he’d been off his suppressants for some time. It was in Dean’s scent,” Cas says solemnly. “I had no idea that Dean was an Omega before then.”

 

Sam sits back, dumbstruck. “I’m lost. Dean, _why - ”_

“It’s a long- and frankly depressing- story,” Dean cuts in. “And I’m sure you’ll get the full story eventually. Maybe it could wait till after I eat though?” he hedges desperately. “I’m eating for two here, remember?”

 

“Has he been playing the pregnancy card this whole time?” Sam asks Cas.

 

“No actually. He has only used it as an excuse if he’s hungry or wishing to avoid talking,” Cas muses, looking to Sam as he nods.

 

“You guys can go back to punching each other in the face now, don’t mind me,” he grouses, playfully shrugging off Cas’s hand when he places it on Dean’s shoulder. Cas only smiles and pulls the blanket higher to cover him more before wrapping his arm around Dean’s waist again.

 

“I’m sorry, Dean,” Cas murmurs softly into his ear, low enough that Sam leans forward to catch what’s being said. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

 

Dean rolls his eyes again, but they all go back to their respective meals, a comfortable silence falling over them as they eat, only uttering a word here and there when they come up for air.

 

He hadn’t realized when Cas had brought out the plates, but he notices when Cas and Sam are finished before him that Cas had given him a lot more food then either of them. They start talking about their careers, about doctoring and lawyering and all that jazz, and Dean looks between the two of them, not even really paying attention to their actual words as he eats slowly. A buzz starts in his chest, something that feels a lot like happiness as he sits between these two men, and before he knows it he’s leaning on Cas’s shoulder, eyes blinking heavily as the sound of Cas’s and his brother’s voices has him sinking gradually into sleep.

 

 

 

 

“…I guess I didn’t want to see it. It was selfish of me, but I was afraid that I would lose my family.”

 

“Dean loves you. He doesn’t like to speak of such private matters, but that much is clear… He’s missed you these last weeks, even if he won’t admit it.”

 

“Thank you. For being there for him when his own family wasn’t. Closing himself off is Dean’s MO. If you hadn’t been there I don’t know what kind of state he’d be in.”

 

“Dean is very strong. Strong and extremely stubborn. I doubt I had much sway over any of his decisions thus far.”

 

“I don’t know, man. Look at him. He trusts you. I’ve _never_ seen him be like this with another person. And Dean was kind of a slut growing up, no offense. He has always had a parade of woman in and out the door, but none that lasts long enough for me to give the threatening brother speech. I only heard about Lisa, never got to meet her in person.”

 

“I think your right hook effectively covered the protective brother speech.”

 

“Again- sorry about that- but that isn’t my point. He’s different. Happier, I guess. And I know some of it’s got to be due to the pup, but I’m pretty sure you have a lot to do with it as well. Twice he’s snapped at me since I’ve been here, once was over the pup, but the other time was when I hit you. He shoved me. He’s never been aggressive towards me- even as kids- he’s never lifted a hand against me. His instinct is to _protect._ And when he saw that I hurt you, he tried to protect _you._ I know you haven’t known Dean very long but trust me, that’s _got_ to mean _something_.”

 

There’s a short silence, and Dean can’t help but thinking how weird this dream is. He’s too tired to open his eyes, too tired to move anything really, so he just listens and inhales the soothing scent of _Cas_ as dream Cas and dream Sam continue their dream conversation.

 

“I hope so.”

 

“I can see the way you look at him. Dean might be oblivious, but it’s clear as day. You love him, don’t you?”

 

Silence again, but something shifts a little underneath his head so there’s a good chance he missed something.

 

“That’s what I thought.”

 

 

 

 

The next time he wakes up, the television is on with the volume low, and its obviously been a few hours since lunch. An arm tightens around him as he blinks slowly awake, lifting his head up slightly to look around him. Sam is still sitting there, eyes focused on the tv. Turning his head back around to where it had been comfortably resting in the nook that is Cas’s shoulder, he’s met with a smile that has him automatically smiling back despite the fact that he’d been cuddled up into Cas while his brother sat not two feet away.

 

“Damn,” he mumbles thickly, alerting Sam that he’d woken up, “Didn’t mean to fall asleep on you guys. My bad.”

 

“It’s alright. I know you’ve got to be exhausted after your heat, man. Jess is the same way. And that’s not even factoring in what the pregnancy is doing to your body - ”

 

“Okaaaaay,” Dean stops him, holding up a tired hand that’s cocooned along with the rest of him. “Definitely not talking about either of those things with you, dude. Let’s just chalk it up to be generally tired. All the time. So… what I miss while I was out?”

 

Cas and Sam exchange a not so subtle look.

 

“What?” Dean asks suspiciously, getting the feeling he’s missing something.

 

“It’s not of import, Dean,” Cas soothes, rubbing his thumb against the skin where his shirt had ridden up. Thank god he had the blanket all the up to his shoulders. “We were just discussing the upcoming holiday and whether or not Sam could fly back for it.”

 

“Well that sounds pretty damn important to me!” he sits up a bit to better see Sam, completely forgetting about his suspicions. “Thanksgiving is in what? Like three weeks or something?”

 

“It is. And I usually go with Jess’s to her parents, but she’ll understand. I- ” Sam hesitates, biting his lip slightly. “I don’t want to miss anything else.”

 

“I could- I could go to California if it’s too much of a hassle,” Dean says in a small voice. Cas hugs him close, not understanding why Dean smells afraid all of a sudden, and not understanding the enormity of Dean’s offer.

 

Sam’s eyebrows shoot up. “Are you kidding me?! And have you pass out the minute you take off? I don’t think so, Dean.”

 

“I wouldn’t pass out...probably.”

 

“You’re pregnant and afraid of flying. Not a great combo if you’re trying to get to California,” Sam reasons. Cas’s eyes clear in understanding.

 

“You’re afraid of traveling in an airplane?” Cas asks curiously.

 

“I’m not _afraid_ ,” he starts defensively, crossing his arms across his chest under the blanket. “I just don’t understand why _anybody_ would choose to trust their lives to a huge metal death trap, is all. Anything could fucking happen, and there would be nothing you can do. It’s not natural, man. People were meant to stay on the ground! And I’d much rather drive Baby anywhere I need to go rather than- why are you guys looking at me like I’m crazy?”

 

Sam and Cas both blink at him.

 

“Like I was saying,” Sam says pointedly. “Not a great combo. Anyway, it’s no problem flying to Kansas. Might even fly in a few days early to hang out, what do you think?”

 

“I think that’s awesome, man,” Dean replies, excited by the thought of getting to spend more time with his brother. They usually wouldn’t get together for the holidays, neither of them seeing them as much of a big deal, their father spending them with his current wife and their son. Last year he’d spent thanksgiving and Christmas with Lisa, but it wasn’t anything out of the norm for them, no fanfare, no fuss. With both Cas _and_ Sam, he had a feeling that wouldn’t be the case. Especially when the pup was involved.

 

“Great,” Sam says with a smile. “Now that thanksgiving is taken care of, I should probably start getting ready to leave.”

 

“Oh shit, what time do you take off?” Dean asks, having completely forgotten the fact that Sam has a job and had only come all the way out here to smooth tings over with him.

 

“Seven-thirty, and it’s almost three now. Still need to drop by Bobby’s to pick up the rest of my stuff though. Mind giving me a ride? Bobby dropped me off.”

 

“Of course,” Dean answers immediately, righting himself and stretching before standing up and letting the blanket fall to the floor. Cas places a hand against Dean’s back to steady him when he sways, his central gravity a little off with the extra weight he’d gained.

 

“Alright, let’s do this shit… After I grab about five different jackets, ‘cuz I’m pretty sure I’m about to freeze my balls off- and wouldn’t that be a tragedy?”

 

 

 

 

Seeing Sam off was made a lot easier knowing that he’d be seeing his brother again soon. It was weird knowing that Cas and his brother had been the ones to discuss meeting up again, especially after their disastrous introduction, but when he was watching Sam head for his gate, turning around to wave one more time, he’d found himself so fucking grateful for it.

 

Sam was officially a part of Team Free Will. There was another person in his corner.

 

While those two _had_ admittedly gone at it, he was confident that that was a one time only thing after the day they’d had. They seemed to like each other well enough, well enough to team up on him, and talk about him like he wasn’t even there, sure, but whatever. They were both important to him in different ways, so he’d take what he could get in means of them getting along.

 

Now though, he was kinda glad it was just him and Cas again.

 

He can hear Cas doing something in the bedroom, but he focuses on bringing up his contacts on his phone, sitting in the living room, and then waiting while the phone rings three times before somebody picks up.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Is it safe for me to show my face back at work tomorrow?” Dean asks nervously.

 

“A’course you idjit,” Bobby chuckles. “I’ll see you bright and early, then.”

 

The phone disconnects and Dean breathes a sigh of relief. Bobby wasn’t a man of many words, but he sure had a way with them. Slipping his phone into his pocket, he makes a mental note to make sure he charges it, he heads for the bedroom where Cas is just finishing up making the bed with clean sheets.

 

They’d both decided that Cas would spend the night again tonight, since he didn’t have to be at work till 9:30 the next morning, and they were both too tired to get back on the road again. The excuse flimsy and kind of ridiculous between two grown ass men, but in reality? Dean did not want Cas to leave.

 

Climbing into bed and sharing kisses that didn’t go any farther was kind of strange after the craziness of his heat, but it felt _right._ Trading touches in the dark, tucking himself close to share his heat, to scent him….he turned off his brain and just let himself breath for once. Let himself feel safe.

 

“Hey Cas?” he whispers.

 

“Hmmm?” is Cas’s sleepy response.

 

“I’m really glad I met you.”

 

Cas turns his head and kisses him, lips moving in a practiced synchrony that makes his toes curl and his stomach flutter. When they pull apart, he can feel Cas’s smile against his forehead.

 

“As am I, Dean. Nothing has brought me greater joy.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whenever I need inspiration or motivation to write, I go back an read all of the comments, so thank you guys SO much. Your support has been instrumental to this story! 
> 
> BTW- if you ever see a photo op with Jensen and Misha holding hands circulating... I'm the girl on the right of Jensen, holding hands with him and Jared ;)


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My throat hurts from screaming and I'm still shaking after Jensen's acceptance video. Holy. Shit.

 

A big, burly figure puts his head down as he walks past Dean’s work station. No intention of stopping, no intention of talking. Narrowing his eyes at him, Dean knows that a talk is definitely in order if not over due.

 

“Hey Benny. Get back here,” he calls, amused when Benny freezes in place but doesn’t turn around. Yeah, Benny knew he was in trouble.

 

“C’mon man, don’t think I’ve forgotten about your little display on Halloween,” he says pointedly.

 

He’s been at work for at least two hours and this was the first time he’d seen the man, and it’s not like he could really _miss_ him unless Benny had been purposely avoiding him. The dude was a fucking bear.

 

Benny finally turns to face him. “Why I have no idea what your talk’in about, friend.”

 

“Bullshit.”

 

“Dean,” Benny sighs, coming over to sit on Dean’s rolling chair as Dean finishes polishing off the buff he’d been working on. “It ain’t a big deal. I was seeing if he would rise to the bait, and he didn’t. End of story.”

 

“Not end of story. Why were you testing him in the first place? And with your niece right there, man,” Dean chastises, waving a hand at him. “Sounds pretty stupid to me.”

 

“I would never put Katie in harm’s way, chief. Never doubt that,” Benny starts solemnly, but then rolls his eyes. “We’re sure are in trouble if you’re already sounding like a parent, Dean. Pointin your finger at me and pointin out my mistakes,” he smirks.

 

“I’m not- fuck,” Dean lowers the finger he had unintentionally been pointing. “I do _not_ sound like a parent, dude. I cuss way too much for that shit.”

 

Benny waggles his eyebrows playfully at him. ”Whatever you say.”

 

“Shut up,” Dean groans, throwing his hand towel at his face. “We’re getting off point.”

 

Something on Benny’s face changes, and he knows a second before Benny starts to speak that it’s not a good something.

 

“And which point was that, brother? The fact that you been lyin to us all about yourself? Or maybe the fact that you are with an Alpha I ain’t never heard a word about before all this?” Benny smiles humorlessly, and Dean is surprised to steel behind his narrowed gaze. “You shut down for weeks- months actually- and then act like everything is fine? It don’t work like that, Dean.”

 

Dean’s stomach drops and he takes an instinctive step backwards.

 

“Everything _is_ fine. And not telling you wasn’t personal, man. I didn’t tell anyone - ”

 

“How am I supposed to know that?” Benny cuts in, leaning forward in his irritation. There’s a lot of hurt in his expression though too. “I thought we were friends, Dean. I count you as one of my best friends- yet you don’t trust me enough to tell me the important things. You’re hiding now- under all them layers and such. I saw you that night, so why all this nonsense,” he gestures to Dean’s bundled up appearance.

 

Holy shit how had he not seen this coming? He’d been so absorbed in the pup, Cas, and Sam that he’d barely given his work and friends a second’s thought. Everything had been going so smooth before, he’d forgotten about how his lies might’ve effected them and the relationships he’d had before he’d outted himself.

 

“Okay first- yes I’m trying to down play my fatness, but mostly it’s because I’m just really fucking cold,” Dean begins, hoping to ease some of the tension from his friend’s face. “If you haven’t noticed, it’s kind of winter right now. Second…You know me, man. When have I _ever_ willingly talked about my feelings?” Dean reasons.

 

Benny raises one eyebrow to show that he’s listening, but otherwise doesn’t indicate for Dean to stop.

 

“And third,” Dean says reluctantly, turning away from Benny’s sharp eyes, “Uhh there’s a reason you thought I was _with_ an omega rather than being one myself…I- uh… the thing with Cas, uh…God, you’re going to make me say it aren’t you?” he groans.

 

“I’m not _making_ you say anything, Dean.”

 

“But you kind of are though,” he insists, clenching his eyes closed. He takes a deep breath and lets it out noisily. He can fucking do this. He knew no better way to let Benny know that he had Dean’s trust. Even though this fucking hurt. “Benny…the thing with Cas is that he was… he was my first.”

 

Dean can feel the way his cheeks and ears turn bright pink, can feel Benny’s heavy stare taking in every thing that must be clear on his face. While logically, he knows that Benny and everyone else is aware that he’d had sex with a man, hence the pregnancy, but it still felt _wrong_ to acknowledge out loud, like it was a dirty little secret that would condemn him straight to hell for even thinking about it. Like maybe after knowing that about him, _really_ knowing it, well…maybe they wouldn’t be interested in being friends with him after all.

 

“Dean,” Benny says quietly. But Dean doesn’t look up from his shoes. He kind of feels likes he’s going to throw up actually. “Dean, come on now buddy, don’t look like that.”

 

“I’m fine,” he says in shaky voice, trying to keep his haywire emotions in check. God he was a mess. He had little to no control over how he felt these days.

 

A big hand lands on his shoulder, turning him to face Benny, and then Benny is pushing him down to take his now vacated seat.

 

“Sit down before you fall down,” Benny pats his shoulder. When Dean hesitantly looks up, instead of judgment, Benny is sporting a soft look on his face. “Now was that that hard?” he asks sarcastically.

 

Dean snorts, covering his face with a hand. “I think I’m gonna puke, dude.”

 

“Please don’t. Then Bobby would probably rip me a new one for being an asshole. _And_ make me clean it up,” Benny says, only mostly joking.

 

“You are an asshole,” Dean murmurs against his skin before running his fingers through his hair. Fuck, this was not how he saw things with Benny going today.

 

“I realize that. I’m real sorry, brother. It was selfish of me,” Benny says softly.

 

“No man, you deserved some answers after everything we been through,” Dean says weakly. “They’re just not so easy to give.”

 

“But I shoulda waited for you to give ‘em on your own time. I know you been struggling. I can see it in the way you hold yourself, man. Did you truly think that I woulda judged you ‘cuz of the way you were born? Or the people who make you happy? I don’t call you ‘brother’ for nothing, Dean.”

 

“Then why the posturing shit on Halloween? I still don’t get it,” Dean can’t help but argue.

 

“You think I’m just gonna let any ol’ Alpha at my best buddy without a few little tests first?” Benny teases, smirking down at Dean. “I was just trying to look out for you. Like I said, he didn’t rise to the bait, so he passed the first one.”

 

“You motherfu- are you fucking serious?” Dean splutters, ignoring the little kick that immediately alerts him to the fact that he needs to pee as soon as possible. “All of this because of some archaic Alpha need to be overbearing and impossible?! I don’t need any help, dude!”

 

“That ain’t gonna discourage me any,” Benny says simply, leaning back against the car, the picture of ease. “You still haven’t said why you were so blue all those weeks. You looked down right depressed Dean. If that man hurt you in any way, I swear to god I’ll whoop his ass.”

 

While touched that Benny cares about him that much, the thought of Benny trying to hurt Cas makes him stomach lurch even more.

 

“What? No, Cas has never hurt me,” Dean is quick to reassure him. “I was going through a fucking identity crisis, man. And that was before… y’know. Before I knew about the pup,” he finishes softly, brushing one palm against the side of his stomach swiftly. “That was all on me. Cas is… Cas is a good man.”

 

Benny narrows his eyes like he’s trying to tell if Dean is lying to him or not, but he nods. “I’ll take your word for it right now, but you better bring that boy around here so I can see for myself. I’m sure Bobby would agree.”

 

“Jeez, you’d think I was a virgin on prom night,” Dean rolls his eyes. “Newsflash fellas, you two old-ladies are not responsible for me.”

 

“Keep telling yourself that princess,” Benny stands up and heads for his own work station, turning to wink at Dean over his shoulder, “Maybe that’ll make it more true.”

 

Huffing and shaking his head at the retreating Alpha, Dean heads for the bathroom, more than relieved that this awkward conversation was finally over. At least he knew that these assholes actually gave a shit about him.

 

 

 

 

 

Both him and Cas were playing catch up at work after all the time they’d missed. Dean more so than Cas since Cas technically didn’t miss any work during Dean’s heat. He’d missed most of the medical conference in his hasty departure, but the day after was scheduled as a down day in anticipation of his travel fatigue. Now though, as he’s trying to muddle through his exhaustion and put in a few more hours, he figures he should let Cas know not to come over. He’s probably sick of Dean anyway after all the time Cas had been forced to stay.

 

He pulls up Cas’s number, it’s almost nine o’clock so hopefully Cas is home already.

 

“Hello, Dean,” Cas answers after barely one ring.

 

Dean can’t help the smile that comes at the sound of that gravelly voice, and he’s so fucking glad no one is around to see it. “Hey,” is the only thing he manages to say back.

 

“How are you feeling? I hope you took multiple breaks today to combat the left over toll your heat has done to your body,” Cas says sternly, making Dean smile even wider and roll his eyes.

 

“I’m fine. Not even that tired- think I’m gonna stay at the garage and finish this car before I leave, actually. That’s why I called.”

 

There’s silence on the line for a second. “Dean,” Cas finally sighs, exasperated. “It’s one thing to lie to me, but another thing all together when you choose to lie to yourself.”

 

“Oh shut up,” Dean chuckles, amused at how put out Cas sounds. “I’ve never told you my deepest, darkest, secret have I?”

 

“No?” Cas answers uncertainly.

 

“Well I guess I have to tell you now…,” Dean bites his lip and tries not to laugh. “Cas… I’m Batman.”

 

He hears a deep laugh on the other line, and he grins, proud of himself for being the one to cause it.

 

“That explains a lot,” Cas says. “But if you are Batman, then what does that mean for the pup and I?” Cas teases, and Dean can still hear the smile in his voice.

 

“Hmmmm…” Dean pretends to think on it, readjusting the phone so that he can lay a hand across his belly. “You can definitely be Robin since you’re shorter than me, but I’m not so sure about the pup yet. Being awesome is dangerous work. I might have to put off my superhero duties for a lil while. You think you could take care of the world for a bit, sidekick?”

 

“The world? Sounds beyond my capabilities. You, however? I’m fairly certain I can protect,” Cas says softly.

 

Dean snorts into the phone. “Wow dude, that was _smooth_. Maybe you aren’t a sidekick after all.”

 

“Thank you Dean,” Cas says, sounding pretty damn proud of myself.

 

“Anyway,” Dean drawls, “That’s it, just wanted to check in and let you know I’m stayin late at work.”

 

“I wouldn’t recommend staying too late though, Dean. Have you eaten? I could drop off dinner if you’d like?” Cas asks, concern coloring his voice.

 

“It’s cool man, Bobby picked us up something from that Mexican place down the street,” he assures Cas.

 

“Are you sure? I don’t mind in the slightest,” Cas wheedles.

 

Dean hesitates for a second, a request on the tip of his tongue just so that he can see Cas for a few minutes, but it passes. He’s already pathetic enough as it is before adding ‘needy’ into his repertoire.

 

“Yeah, I’m sure. You go to bed, okay? I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

 

“Alright. Don’t work yourself too hard. You need your rest.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Dean rolls his eyes. “Good night, Cas.”

 

“Good night, Dean,” Cas says softly.

 

 

 

 

But it’s not a good night, not at all.

 

He ends up tossing and turning and _fucking freezing_ all night, unable to catch more than a few minutes here and there because he’s so uncomfortable. The last few days of his heat he’d been sleeping like a rock, so feeling like this now is just throwing him off. Because the kicker is; he’s so exhausted it’s not even funny, but when he closes his eyes his eyelids burn and his body and brain just keep on buzzing away like it wasn’t 2am.

 

He’s only able to catch a few hours around five when he finds one of Cas’s discarded shirts on his way back from the bathroom. He’s _just_ tired enough not to give a flying fuck about how embarrassed he should be as presses his nose to it and finally drifts into a light sleep.

 

He’s grumpy and irritable for the rest of the day. His eyes are red with bags underneath them, and when anyone tries to talk to him, all they get is clipped, one-word answers. When Ash walks by him, the smell of fresh coffee following him, Dean knows that if looks could kill, Ash would’ve been the first on his list.

 

But he makes it through. Even staying an extra two hours after his shift to help catalogue a new shipment that had just come in. By the time he gets back to his apartment and sees Cas’s Prius already in his guest parking spot, he’s ready to kneel over.

 

Making his way slowly up the stairs, using the railing way more than he usually would, he can’t help but think he’d getting too fucking old for this. Obviously he can’t bounce back the way he used to when getting four hours of sleep was more than enough. And forget a second wind. He’d been hoping for one all day but he was left sorely disappointed.

 

Rounding the corner at the top of the stairs, he watches Cas’s smile morph into a frown as he catches sight of Dean. Dropping the food he has in his hands, he takes the few steps necessary to get to Dean. Wrapping an arm around his waist, Cas pulls him close and waddles them towards the door. He kind of feels like an over-tired toddler being helped to bed, but he’s really too tired to complain.

 

“Dean, are you alright? You look exhausted,” Cas worries, Alpha concern flooding his senses.

 

“Mmhhm. Mmmm…you smell good,” Dean mutters, closing his eyes, forgetting for a second that he needs to fish out his keys from his inner pockets. Fuck why was he wearing so many goddamn jackets?

 

“Dean?” Cas asks again as soon as Dean gets the door unlocked.

 

But as Cas picks up the food and puts it inside, Dean just grabs Cas by the hand and leads him to the couch instead of answering. Pushing Cas down on the far right side, Dean flops onto the couch after him, spreading out until his head is resting in Cas’s lap. He can tell Cas is bewildered for a moment, confused as to this weird turn of events, but after a second, fingers makes their way gently though his hair like he’d hoped they would. Sighing in relief and closing his eyes, Dean is out within minutes.

 

The smell of food is the thing that wakes him.

 

Yawning and curling into himself a little in a light stretch, he’s surprised by a warm hand pushing his hair back from his face. Opening his eyes quickly, he looks up to see Cas’s face in the dark, the only light coming from the light outside his door streaming in through his window. With the shadows cast across his face and his blue eyes standing out in comparison, Cas kind of looks like an angel.

 

“Dude. Not sure if anyone has told you this before,” Dean mumbles sleepily, turning back on his side and closing his eyes, “but you make a great pillow.”

 

Cas breathes a soft laugh, but doesn’t stop his ministrations. “I’m glad you think so, Dean.”

 

“What time ‘issit?”

 

“It’s ten-thirty. You’ve been sleeping for about two and a half hours.”

 

“Shit.”

 

“It’s alright, Dean,” Cas says quietly. “You obviously needed the sleep. Did you get in late from work?”

 

“Nah, man. Just couldn’t sleep,” Dean mutters, his voice still a little hoarse.

 

Cas frowns down at him, fingers still gently working through his hair. “Why do you think that is?”

 

Dean pauses. “Uh- I think it’s because- ” _I’ve gotten used to falling asleep to your scent,_ “-of the pup. I used to sleep on my stomach before all this so I’m out of sorts I guess.”

 

That was bullshit of course, since he was pretty sure he could fall asleep in any position- even standing up if he had to- but Cas doesn’t know that. And he doesn’t need to know about how he’d slept with one of his shirts pressed to his nose in a desperate bid for sleep that ended up paying off. No, Cas doesn’t need to know how disgustingly pathetic Dean had become.

 

“Well then I am very glad to be of assistance,” Cas tells him. “Maybe you could try placing a thin pillow underneath your stomach whilst sleeping on your side? It might even out the weight - ”

 

“But you smell so much better than a pillow,” Dean cuts in. “What the fuck _is_ that? And what is that other smell? Did you bring me something cheesy?”

 

“Macaroni,” Cas nods, smiling when Dean’s face lights up. “As for my scent, I told you that both our scents would be changing as time and the pregnancy progressed. Our natural pheromones are in over drive right now. That is what you are scenting.”

 

“Oh.” Dean pauses, and then sits up, swinging his legs down to the floor. “You lost me at macaroni, dude. You shouldn’t have started with that.”

 

“I’ll keep that in mind next time,” Cas rolls his eyes, watching in amusement as Dean makes a bee-line for the bag of food Cas had dropped just inside the door.

 

“You should. ‘Cuz you know there will be a next time if this shit is good,” Dean says. “Mmmm. Shit, if it tastes half as good as it smells, next time will be tomorrow.”

 

“That’s what you say about anything I bring you.”

 

“What can I say? You got good taste.”

 

“Do you truly believe that, Dean?” Cas asks him, raising one eye-brow. Dean, whose already opened the aluminum container and broke open the plastic fork and spoon, doesn’t see it.

 

“Shhh shhh shh, I’m eatin here,” Dean mumbles through a bite of his food. Which he hadn’t even tried to warm up. “Fuck- this is good.”

 

“I’m sure it would taste better if it was warm. I can microwave it for you if you’d like.”

 

Dean just shakes his head, shoveling mouthful after mouthful into his mouth as he stands there next to the door. He’s still wearing the three jackets he’d worn to work, his jeans which felt like they were about to bust at the seams, and his work boots; so realistically, there should have been no way he’d fallen asleep that easy. As the days went on, his clothes got more and more suffocating. He felt like a marsh mellow, but the kind you stuck in the microwave because you didn’t want to make a mess on the stove.

 

Shrugging out of one jacket and then the next, and then the next- all while juggling his meal from hand to hand and eating bites in between- he sighs in relief when he’s finally down to just his long sleeve. Patting his belly and heaving a sigh of exertion, he plops down onto the couch, meeting Cas’s eyes who had been watching his little show the entire time. If he’s not mistaken, Cas’s eyes haven’t strayed from his stomach.

 

“You gonna eat too?”

 

“No, I ate before I got here.”

 

For some reason, Dean doesn’t believe that.

 

“Which was when, again?” Dean wonders aloud, trying to think back to when he’d gotten off of work.

 

“Around eight I believe.

 

“And what time do you gotta go in tomorrow?”

 

Was that spinach he was eating? There was definitely something green stuck in with all the noodles along with little pieces of chicken, but whatever it was, at least it didn’t detract anything from cheesy overload his mouth was currently enjoying.

 

Cas grimaces. Reaching over to wipe a smudge of cheese away from Dean’s cheek with his thumb, he says, “Unfortunately, I start my day at seven tomorrow. And while I don’t categorize myself a ‘morning person’,” Cas air quotes, “There will be a bright side as I get to retire an hour earlier than most days.”

 

“Aaaand it’s almost eleven. Shit man, I’m sorry I fell asleep on you… literally,” Dean says, shaking his head. “I seem to be saying that a lot lately, huh?”

 

“It’s really alright, Dean. I can stay the night if you’d think that might help you sleep tonight,” Cas offers, trying to catch Dean’s eyes as they drop to the last few bites of his macaroni.

 

There was that word again. _Help_. He didn’t need anyone’s goddamn help. Not Cas’s, not Sam’s, or Benny’s or Bobby’s. He could take care of himself _by_ himself.

 

Yet he wants to say yes so fucking bad. Especially remembering back to last night; exhausted, cold, and strangely lonely in the wake of sharing a bed with someone for only a few days. But that was because of his stupid heat, now there was no reason for them to be sleeping together. Sure, the few days that they had had been kind of awesome, but if he plans to keep his dignity firmly attached to his person while walking around friggin’ _pregnant_ , he needed to stop relying so much on Cas. Giving into the stereotypes associated with being an omega was a slippery slope that he didn’t think he could ever recover from mentally. Besides, maybe last night was just a side-effect of his heat. He already felt more relaxed and comfortable than he had all day.

 

“No, that’s pretty early Cas. You gotta get some sleep. I think I’ll be fine,” he tells Cas quietly.

 

“You think?” Cas asks, using a single finger to tilt Dean’s chin up to look at him. “Dean, I don’t mind at all.”

 

Looking into deep blue, he bites his lip, hesitating. Only a few days ago he wouldn’t have thought twice about leaning in and pressing his lips to Cas’s, pulling Cas on top of him and getting some pg-13 action going on down stairs. But he had an excuse then, and he felt out of place in picking up where they left off before it.

 

Cas must read the indecision on his face though, because he’s the one that leans in, giving Dean a free pass. Molding their lips together, the slow, hot movement of Cas’s lips between his, the wet sound it makes as they pull apart only to get a better angle to slot together for deeper access…. God, he can feel himself getting wet. Licking into Cas’s mouth and grabbing at Cas’s hair, he’s seriously considering changing his answer to Cas’s question. He knew from experience that Cas’s stubble felt fucking amazing against…everywhere.

 

“I’m good Cas,” he pulls away, panting slightly. “You should probably go,” he says reluctantly, hoping to save himself any more embarrassment than he was already experiencing due to unwanted slick.

 

“I know,” Cas whispers, brushing their noses together. He leans in to kiss Dean again, nipping at Dean’s lower lip before pulling away all together. “Promise me something.”

 

“Hmmm?”

 

Cas reaches over to cradle Dean’s face with both palms. “Call me if you can’t sleep. I mean it. Any time, and I will be there.”

 

Cas says it so earnestly that there’s no way Dean could doubt the sincerity of the offer no matter how ridiculous it is. The only thing is, Dean knows himself well enough by now to already rule out said offer. He knows, even as he says the words, “I promise,” that asking for help wasn’t his style. That he’d find another way if push came to shove.

 

But as he walks Cas out, sharing one more brief kiss between them, which is weird because of how not weird it is, it’s kinda funny to imagine a sleep rumbled, sleep _grumpy_ Castiel showing up to his door at some ungodly hour. Maybe he’d abuse that power sometime in the near future…

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was not so funny when it was _his_ ass outside Cas’s door at 2am on the third consecutive night of not sleeping. He was over life, and over not asking for help. Fuck that. He was done.

 

Torn between calling Cas and just ringing the door bell, he shifts from foot to foot in the dark, shivering hard in only one of his hoodies. He hadn’t said anything to Cas yesterday after another sleepless night but tonight had been different. The minute his head hit the pillow, he _knew_ he wouldn’t be sleeping. He’d tried all the tricks he’d ever learned to fall asleep, even counting sheep for christ’s sake. But all to no avail. Laying on his back with burning, droopy eyes, he’d pulled up his shirt to rub circles across his stomach. He’d decided then and there that he’d have to put his pride aside in the best interest of the pup. If his body was craving Cas, or Cas’s scent more likely, then that’s what he needed. Lack of sleep wouldn’t do anyone any good; not him, not the pup.

 

So here he was, looking like a fucking criminal with his hood pulled as low as possible over his face, and his pajama pants. If there was such a thing as pregnant criminals, he thinks to himself, shaking his head. God he was too tired for this bullshit. His hazy brain was making it difficult to think straight, sending a weighty anxiety coursing through his chest and spine, breaths coming quick and puffing out in front of his face.

 

Steeling his nerve and thinking _fuck it_ , he reaches out to ring the door bell twice before biting his lip and starting to pace. Fuck this was a bad idea. Cas probably wouldn’t even answer the door- he wouldn’t if his door bell rang at 2am. He probably would’ve slept through it. Hopefully Cas would so Dean would be spared the embarrassment of looking like a whiny omega begging for his Alpha’s attention- _Jesus_ \- what had he been _thinking-_

 

The door opens a crack, and Cas’s squinting eyes and out worldly hair are just visible. Cas blinks at him owlishly for a full minute before his eyes widen, and realization dawns on his face.

 

“Dean?” he rasps incredulously, opening the door more to take Dean in. “What are you doing here?”

 

“I uh- I couldn’t sleep,” he stutters, feeling stupid. Because he _is_ stupid. This whole plan was fucking stupid. If he couldn’t take a few nights of no sleep without complaining about it, then he really was a pussy.

 

His head starts to pound as he waits for Cas to say something else. Waits for Cas to do _something_ other than stare holes through his head. But Cas’s brow is still furrowed in sleepy confusion, frozen on the spot as he looks Dean up and down intently.

 

“I can go,” Dean says nervously, taking a step back. “I just thought that- you know what? Never mind. It was stupid-,” he tries to laugh it off as he turns around to hide his blush, or maybe even his disappointment, but Cas finally breaks out of his stupor.

 

Stepping forward to grab Dean’s hand, he turns Dean around and pulls him inside without a word. Following anxiously and watching as Cas closes the door and locks it behind them, he thinks he should say something, give a better explanation to why he’s here, but his tongue feels heavy, rendered numb and useless as his mind blanks.

 

It’s completely dark inside, no better than outside really, but there’s a different kind of stillness inside Cas’s house. A calm interlaced with the scent of Cas that has his heart rate slowing. He tries to inhale as much of that scent as he possibly can without being too obnoxious about it. And now he’s only a little bit afraid of what Cas will say.

 

But when the lock clicks into place, Cas turns towards Dean and gently tilts Dean’s hooded head down so that he can kiss Dean’s forehead. Then he’s taking Dean’s hand again and leading them to where he knows Cas’s bedroom is at. Just like that, no questions asked.

 

The only sound in the house is Cas’s bare feet padding quietly on the wood floor, and Dean’s boots he’d hastily shoved on before his manic drive to the suburbs. It might as well have been another world with the difference in the way he feels now compared to half an hour ago.

 

Biting his lip and blinking away fucking exhaustingly relieved tears, he takes a deep, shaky breath. Cas squeezes his hand, and damned if that doesn’t make him even more emotional. Turning the corner to the bedroom, grateful that Cas knows his way in the dark, Cas doesn’t let go of his hand until he carefully sits Dean down on the bed. Sinking to his knees a little clumsily, causing a loud thud that disrupts the silence, he unlaces Dean’s boots before pulling them off completely and setting them aside.

 

Choosing to crawl on to the bed to the other side instead of walking all the way around, Cas slips back under the huge fluffy white comforter to where he must have been before. Pulling back the covers, he closes his eyes and holds his arms open for Dean.

 

“You’re just _trying_ to make me cry, you asshole,” Dean mumbles thickly, chest feeling all fuzzy, crawling towards Cas and climbing under the covers. Wrapping both arms around Cas’s chest, and sliding his body to the comforting warmth of Cas’s body heat, he’s effectively wrapped himself in sleepy Alpha. Soft and pliant, probably still mostly asleep, Cas’s fingers make their way through Dean’s hair, pulling down Dean’s hood in the process.

 

Snuffling until he finds the perfect spot to scent Cas’s neck, he preens at feeling of Cas’s fingers, relaxing even further and smiling in relieved bliss. Breathing in Cas’s scent, he can already feel his eyelids getting heavy for the first time all night.

 

“Sorry ‘bout this, Cas,” Dean whispers into Cas’s shirt, fighting to keep his eyes open now, “Won’t happen again.”

 

His words are a little bit slurred, but he’s almost positive Cas understands him.

 

“Dean?” Cas mutters back, somehow managing to sound irritated with just one word.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Go to sleep.”

 

“….thanks Cas.”

 

“Shhhh.”

 

 

 

 

 

“Son of a _bitch,_ ” he groans, scrambling to untangle himself from blankets and arms.

 

As soon as his feet touch the floor, he’s automatically turning for the door on the left, hissing in slight panic when he opens it to find a fucking closet. With suits in it.

 

“Shit!” he growls, almost running for the other door on the right. He forgot he was at Cas’s house and he’d lost himself a couple of precious seconds.

 

Wrenching the door open and shuffling to the toilet, he makes it to the toilet just in time to prevent his bladder from exploding. God, he thinks, sighing in relief as a steady stream continues to flows, how the hell did woman _do_ this without a dick? If he had to constantly squat with his stomach the way it was, he’d be fucking miserable. He already had to lean forward a little to make sure his aim was on point, but he’d easily take that over what women went through.

 

“Hey you,” Dean murmurs as he’s washing his hands, “Ease up on the bladder, ok? At least when I’m sleeping. Otherwise have at it.”

 

Patting his stomach firmly a couple times, he shakes his head at it in exasperation before heading back to bed. Cas is still out of it, not bothered at all by Dean’s overwhelming urge to pee, so he just climbs back into bed, pressing chilled fingers against Cas’s stomach, smiling deviously when Cas flinches away with a grumbled complaint.

 

Staring up at Cas’s closed eyes, feeling the steady up and down motion of Cas’s breathing where he’s resting his chin on Cas’s chest, Dean thinks Cas looks kinda cute when he’s sleeping. A lot less serious, and a lot less burdened down. But if the pup wakes Dean up, then the pup wakes _everyone_ up, Cas included.

 

Pressing his face into Cas’s shoulder and inhaling the scent of masculinity mixed with contentment, he smiles to himself a second before he opens his mouth to bite at the hard bulge of Cas’s muscle. It’s only a nip, just enough for him to taste the salt of Cas’s skin really, but it gets the job done.

 

“Dean,” Cas mumbles, barely opening his mouth, not even bothering to open his eyes.

 

“Mmhmm?” he hums against Cas’s skin, eying Cas and trying not to laugh.

 

“Can I ask you a question?”

 

“Go for it.”

 

“Why,” Cas starts lazily, tiredly scrubbing a hand down his face, “do you insist on repeatedly disrupting my sleeping patterns?”

 

Laugh muffled by Cas’s skin, he says, “I think the better question is why do you always _let_ me? Boom.”

 

Rubbing at the bridge of his nose, Cas finally opens his eyes to glare down at Dean. “That is a very good question.”

 

“Awwww c’mon,” Dean says, rolling on his side so that he’s mostly off of Cas, propped up on one elbow. “Like you could resist all _this_ sexiness,” he jokes, rolling his eyes at himself.

 

Cas’s eyes narrow at him even more before he pounces; pushing Dean back and rolling on top of him so that they’re face to face. Blinking up at the Alpha in shock, he feels frozen under Cas’s sharp eyes.

 

“Oh believe me,” Cas says, voice deep and gravelly and sending goose bumps down his arms. “I find you _very_ sexy, Dean.”

 

Rolling his eyes again, he tries to turn his face away. “Yeah right, dude. You can shut up now, I was joking.”

 

“But I’m not joking, Dean. Incredibly sexy. Every single part of you.”

 

His stomach churns in anxiety, a weird feeling of insecurity that has been building up the bigger he got. In the beginning it was very clear that Cas had the hots for him. During his heat- that was a given. But how about when he got so big he couldn’t see his toes? He was already huge, and there really was nothing attractive about a round, pregnant, _dude._ He wouldn’t blame Cas if he stopped being aroused by him. No matter how much it secretly bothered him.

 

“Alright, alright. Make fun of the pregnant guy,” he tries to roll out from underneath Cas’s weight. Cas only pins him down harder, using his arms to bracket Dean’s face. The scent of comfort and affection starts pouring off of Cas, all put hitting him in the face.

 

“I’m not poking fun. I’m serious,” Cas ducks down to kiss Dean’s chin, and then his neck as he turns away. “Every- single- part- of- you,” he punctuates each word with a randomly placed kiss to Dean’s face.

 

Dean tries to fight his grin at first, but he breaks when Cas fucking kisses his ear. Wrapping his arms around Cas’s neck, he lets the crazy Alpha kiss wherever he wants to, only letting go when Cas starts to kiss down his body-knowing where Cas will inevitably end up.

 

Dean feels slick begin to leak between his legs as Cas kisses both his nipples through his shirt, but he ignores it. He knows this isn’t about sex, and he knows that’s not what Cas meant to insight. When Cas finally reaches his destination, Dean doesn’t even hesitate this time, only pulls his shirt out of the way and lets Cas have access to the source of Dean’s anxiety. Already, he has little lightening shaped stretch marks on both sides of his hips, stark against the paleness of the rest of him. But Cas isn’t looking at those.

 

He’s kissing Dean’s belly- every inch if Dean had to guess- from top to bottom, rubbing the skin he isn’t touching with his lips.

 

“You couldn’t be more sexy, Dean,” Cas whispers, nosing at his skin still, “You’re freckles, your eyes, your _face._ Your ears, fingers and toes, both legs and both arms. Your chin, and collar bones. And _this_ ,” Cas leans enough so that Dean can see the lust in his eyes before he presses another kiss right above Dean’s belly button. “The fact that you are carrying _our_ pup…That is un _believably_ sexy.”

 

Taking his bottom lip between his teeth and feeling heat fill his cheeks that has nothing to do with embarrassment for once, he decides on a more _physical_ approach. Crooking his finger in the universal _come hither_ motion, he pulls Cas in by the hair as soon as he’s close enough. Crashing their lips together, tongues fighting for dominance right away, Dean doesn’t realize he’d unconsciously spread his legs until Cas thrusts in between them, grinding a very impressive erection against Dean’s own.

 

“See,” Cas pulls away to speak quietly into Dean’s ear. “This is what you do to me, Dean. It can’t be helped.”

 

“Well I don’t know about that,” Dean says throatily, licking a small stipe against Cas’s throat. “I’m not opposed to lending a helping hand every now and again.”

 

Cas stiffens against him, Alpha lust blowing Dean’s pupils wide with it’s potency, wrapping around both of them, only strengthened by the scent of new slick.

 

He can’t believe the words coming out of his mouth, or the ease in which he’s flirting so blatantly with a man that is on top of him. But he also can’t believe how fucking wet he’s become with just a few kisses and sweet nothings.

 

“We can’t, Dean,” Cas says regretfully, the words almost looking painful in his mouth. “We both have work very soon. And we are already making up for lost time.”

 

“You sure about that, Cas?” he thrusts his hips up, rubbing their cocks together in a move that makes them both hiss. “Don’t think either of us would last very long…” he trails off hopefully, lust still evident in his scent and voice.

 

“Later,” Cas promises, searching Dean’s eyes and leaning down for a peck. “That is if you’re coming back tonight?”

 

“I’ve already imposed enough, man - ” Dean starts, but is interrupted by another kiss and an exasperated frown.

 

“You aren’t imposing if I want you here, beautiful. Besides, I believe at this stage in the pregnancy that your body has become scent dependent on mine.”

 

“What the fuck does _that_ mean?” Dean grumbles suspiciously, matching Cas’s frown.

 

“It’s very common during Omega pregnancies. Mates, or more specifically Omegas, rely heavily on the scent of their Alphas in a time where they couldn’t be more vulnerable. For protection and comfort, everything an Omega needs, especially when with pup,” Cas eyes narrow like he wants to say more, but already knowing from Dean’s face that Dean is at his limit.

 

“Seriously?” he spits scathingly. “This is a _thing?_ My body is literally begging you to fucking take care of me without me getting a say in it? God- just when I thought I couldn’t be more pathetic.”

 

“Dean,” Cas scolds, sitting up next to Dean. “This isn’t a bad thing. I _want_ to take care of you. And now you can’t hide your discomfort or pretend that you can handle things on your own.”

 

Anger colors his scents as sits up to shove at Cas’s shoulder. Just like the first time they met, only he barely moves Cas… Which makes him angrier.

 

“I’m not fucking _pretending_ to do anything. I _can_ handle things on my own, and I don’t need you telling me what I do or don’t need. And I for sure don’t need you taking care of me, dude. I’m not fucking helpless!”

 

“That’s not what I meant, Dean,” Cas sighs, looking away to hide the hurt in his eyes at Dean’s words.

 

But Dean sees it anyway.

 

Yet he can’t stop them. “Yeah, I know what you meant. You think I’m _vulnerable_. And aren’t you just the Alpha for the job? To come in, and fucking sweep me off my feet? Because every omega _needs_ and Alpha around - ”

 

“Enough, Dean,” Cas snaps, rising and turning his back to Dean. “You’ve made it abundantly clear that you do not need me. You must excuse me for showing concern for you and the child we _both_ created.”

 

Grabbing a few things from the closet, Cas storms out, leaving only the scent of anger and unhappy Alpha in his wake. It leaves a bitter taste in Dean’s mouth, has him wanting to follow Cas and scent him until it goes away, but that’s probably just his fucking _biology_ telling him that; insisting that an omega make their Alpha happy, keep them satisfied.

 

Huffing and trying to shake of the residual guilt sitting uneasily in his stomach, he slowly gets out of bed, waiting until after he hears the shower in the bathroom before leaving the bedroom. He doesn’t want to leave yet, it would be shitty of him after he’d all but forced himself on Cas last night, but it’s not like he knows his way around Cas’s place. Since Cas was in the shower, he might as well explore.

 

After running out to his car for a quick change of clothes- gratefully that he kept spares in the trunk for cases just like this- he starts with the room off to the left of Cas’s living room. Upon opening the door, he sees a big impressive looking black desk. Black shelves behind it with rows and rows of books. There’s neat stacks of papers all over it, surrounding a very large computer, and one of those things- the little instrument with the balls that keep hitting each other. The walls are bare, painted a light beige, and there’s a black leather futon in the corner, but Dean’s attention is immediately drawn to the three picture frames on the corner of what must be Cas’s desk.

 

Rounding the corner he leans down over the desk to get a better look. The first frame holds a picture of three people; a man, a woman, and a little boy. They’re on a beach with the ocean in the background, the man’s arm around the woman’s waist, the little boy sleeping on the woman’s hip. Both the man and woman smiling like they know something the person taking the picture doesn’t. The picture is dated, the color having faded with time, but even if it hadn’t he’d be able to identify Cas. No one had hair like that but him. But he looked so small there, so frail. He was the spitting image of his parents.

 

Smiling a little, his anger finally melting a little at little Cas, he moves on to the next picture. Cas is much older in this one, probably early twenties, and two men have their arms slung over his shoulders with Cas sandwiched in between. The one on Cas’s left is blonde with strong features, a barely there smile quirking his lip up as he looks down, while the one on the right seems to be in the middle of rolling his eyes. Cas’s eyes are lit up with amusement, mouth slightly open as if in question. And all these reactions seem to be caused by the man on the floor posing as if he was in _Sport’s Illustrated._ Fucking Gabriel, he laughs to himself, taking the picture in as a whole.

 

So this is Cas’s family. His parents and his brothers.

 

Smirking and shaking his head a little, he moves on to the third frame, freezing when he finally notices a very familiar picture taking up residence on Cas’s desk.

 

It’s the ultrasound picture. Right up there with the rest of Cas’s family.

 

Grabbing the picture with shaking fingers, he squeezes it in his hand as he closes his eyes tightly. _Fuck_ what had he _done?_

 

Cas goes out of his way every fucking day to make sure that Dean is okay, that him and the pup are looked after, and Dean goes and fucking spits in his face. Cas already saw the pup as _family_ , a word that had always meant the world to Dean but didn’t mean anything when it was Cas’s? All this time he’d been so friggin’ selfish, and he hadn’t even realized.

 

Cas had been trying- trying to get the pup and him healthy, to help them get sleep, to ease Dean’s discomfort –the little things every day that added up to him trusting Cas like he’d never trusted anybody in his life, whether he liked it or not.

 

And yet he’d let Cas leave him thinking that he didn’t want or need him.

 

“Fuck,” he groans, setting down the picture before he covers his face with his hands. He was so fucking confused. On one hand he was determined not to give into his omega side, to show weakness, to _need_ so much more than himself. But on the other hand, he was fucking disgusted with himself for being so hard on Cas. Cas was hardwired to take care- to protect- his omega, his Alpha instincts demanding that he do so, but that was _Dean_. Cas was hardwired to protect Dean. Just as if they were mated.

 

He’d been denying it and denying it, but all that led to was him throwing up and no sleep- not to mention the constant scent of stress coming off of Castiel that he’d never bothered to ask about. Both their bodies kept trying to push them together while Dean tried to keep Cas at arm’s length, and that just wasn’t cutting it anymore. So why go on like this? It was only going to get worse.

 

Something needed to change, and that something was him. If that meant being a little uncomfortable, then so be it. He’d been thinking about himself this whole time when he really needed to be thinking about the baby and Cas.

 

Was being taken care of- cared _for_ \- really that bad?

 

He guesses he’ll be finding out soon enough. Because this shit started today. He just didn’t know where to start….

 

“Dean?” Cas calls from somewhere in the house, a note of panic in his voice that has Dean moving toward it immediately. Exiting the office, he completely forgets his mission to explore in favor of seeking out that voice.

 

“Yeah,” he yells, hoping to give Cas a better direction as to his location…And to let him know that he hadn’t left. Cas’s house is so fucking big, his voice echoes slightly due to the high ceiling of the living room.

 

Cas comes walking around the corner a second later wearing a light blue button up and his black business slacks, coming from the direction of the kitchen, and Dean’s stomach twists with even more guilt when Cas breaks into a relieved smile.

 

“Dean,” Cas says, smile slipping a bit at whatever he sees on Dean’s face. “I was just about to make us breakfast before work. What sounds good?”

 

“Uh, whatever’s good,” Dean mutters awkwardly, looking to the floor. He sees Cas’s foot take one step forward and then stop, hesitating.

 

There’s a moment of tense silence, both of them right on the edge of saying something, but then Cas sighs and starts to turn for the kitchen.

 

“Cas, wait,” Dean says frantically. Cas turns back around, a little alarmed by the looks of it, and Dean bites his lip, trying to think of what to say. “I- I’m…fuck,” he stutters, giving a mental shrug before he decides he’s just desperate enough to go with his instincts.

 

Walking right to Cas, Dean wraps his arms around Cas’s waist and noses at his neck. Ducking a bit to press his face in close, Dean scents him, breathing him in and holding his breath. It’s something they’ve been doing a lot more often, but still feels significant, feels like something special between mates. And he’s hoping Cas can pick up on the regret in his scent.

 

Cas remains tense for a second, stiff in his arms, and a soft whine leaves Dean’s throat before he can stop it. Immediately, Cas’s arms encircle him, going around Dean’s back and squeezing Dean to him. He feels a soft sigh breathed against his forehead and then a whisper of a kiss brushes across his cheek.

 

Eventually Cas lowers his head to scent Dean’s shoulder, closing his eyes and smiling when Dean nuzzles into him even more. They stand there for long minutes, holding each other and taking comfort in each other’s scents, and Cas only pulls away when all he can scent on Dean is contentment. Fighting with Dean was not ever a pleasant experience. He doesn’t know what happened between his shower and now, but he’s grateful for it. All he wants is for Dean to be happy.

 

“Come on, Dean,” Cas murmurs softly, taking his hand, “let’s get some food in you.”

 

Cas leads him to the table and then disappears into the walk in pantry. Sounds of shuffling and things being moved the only sound before Cas reemerges with two boxes of cereal in each hand- which he raises in question.

 

“Since time is of the essence, I thought it might be best if we kept it simple,” he says. “Cheerios or wheaties?”

 

But when Cas mentions the time, Dean’s head whips around to check the little green numbers over the stove, and groaning when he sees he only has a half an hour until his ass needs to be at the garage.

 

“Shit, I should go.”

 

“I’m sure your boss would want you to eat, Dean,” Cas insists quietly, frowning at Dean as he goes to retrieve two bowls, spoons, and milk. “Just stay a few more minutes.”

 

He doesn’t want to be late, doesn’t want to have to make excuses for himself to Bobby, but he bites his tongue. Swallowing his argument, he reaches for the cheerios when Cas slides over his bowl. He’s never eaten so fast in his life, but at least he’s eating, and at least Cas smiles at him a little when he takes both their bowls to the sink.

 

He turns to grab his phone and keys when Cas asks, “Did you remember to bring your vitamins and nausea medicine, Dean?”

 

Freezing where he is, he clenches his eyes shut for a second.

“Fuck,” he swears in an aggravated whisper. How could he have forgotten something so important to his daily routine? He’d just signed himself up for puke city unless he _really_ wanted to be late to work.

 

Cas looks over his shoulder when Dean doesn’t respond, and read’s Dean’s answer all over his face.

 

“What time do you begin work?”

 

“Nine. I have to be there is less then twenty minutes,” he snips, irritated with himself and his situation. “Fuck it. Guess I know how my day is gonna go.”

 

“Not necessarily,” Cas says cautiously, pursing his lips and seeming to think something over. “I may have a solution, but I’m not sure you’ll be…amendable to it.”

 

“Didn’t you hear me? Less than 20. Of course I’ll ‘be amenable’ to it…But uh- what is it?”

 

“Stay put. I’ll return momentarily,” Cas says quickly before he jogs back in the direction of his bedroom.

 

Dean shifts from foot to foot, antsy at the prospect of being late. It’s funny how lackadaisical he’d been about being late at the beginning of all this, not knowing at the time that he’d been pregnant at the time, but now? If he was late, he was the late pregnant dude. Or he was late because he was pregnant. And that was not the reputation he wanted to maintain in a place he’d earned respect.

 

But as Cas came jogging back over, he had a feeling any respect directed towards him would soon dwindle and die out. Cas was holding a blank pullover sweater, it’s long sleeves a bit tattered around it’s edges, looking worn in and well-loved. Meaning it could more than likely fit over Dean’s belly.

 

Cas fingers the material softly, not looking Dean in the eye. “I understand from our conversation this morning that you….I get it. But my scent,” Cas lifts his chin, looking a little defiant. “Dean, my scent should work as an effective substitute for your morning sickness pill. As much as you hate it, I’m afraid it’s your only option.”

 

Dean narrows his eyes at Cas, catching the slightly hunched shoulders and Cas’s tight grip on the sweater. He’s still worried that Dean will say no.

 

“I don’t hate it, Cas,” he says softly, closing the distance between them and gently prying Cas’s fingers away from the thing.

 

Cas looks up in surprise and then a little suspicion clouds his scent. Blinking at Dean, probably shocked he doesn’t have to argue his point anymore, Cas’s fingers stay locked in the thick material.

 

But as much as he wants to start making things up to Cas, he really doesn’t have time for this.

 

“Just give me the damn sweater, Cas.”

 

Cas’s lip quirk up a tiny bit, and as soon as he releases his hold on it, Dean is quickly pulling the sweater over his head and rolling the rest of it down and over his belly. It’s large enough that it’s still kinda loose around his chest but where it’s snug around the peak of his stomach. And if he happened to catch his reflection today, he’s pretty sure he’d look huge, but whatever- it worked.

 

Figuring he might as well go for it since he’d already put himself out there, he steps forward to kiss that strange little look off Cas’s face. He’d been eyeing Dean with wide eyes, his scent thickening with something Dean didn’t recognize, but as soon as Dean’s lips met his, Cas was kissing him hard. Lips feverish and demanding, momentarily surprising Dean with the heat behind it.

 

“Woah, okay,” Dean gasps when they pull apart. “I really gotta go now.”

 

“Stay,” Cas murmurs, catching Dean’s hand when he tries to leave.

 

“What? I have wor - ”

 

“Not now, Dean. Later. Stay with me for a few days. This weekend at least,” Cas pleads, squeezing Dean’s hand. “That way you can sleep.”

 

He notices the very obvious way Cas avoids the word “help” in that sentence.

 

Biting his lip in desperation as his mental clock continued to tick louder and louder the longer he stayed here with Cas, he squeezes Cas’s hand back before dropping his hand and reaching for the door. “I’ll think about it.”

 

Cas doesn’t say anything else, doesn’t stop Dean’s mad melee to his car, but Dean still feels his eyes until he turns out of Cas’s cul-de-sac. Taking a deep breath, his eyes widen and he immediately regrets it. The scent attached to the sweater he was wearing is _very_ potent. It goes right to his head…then right to his ass.

 

Fuck. Today was going to be a long day.

 

 

 

 

“I take back what I said. That Alpha of yours did _not_ pass my test,” Benny chuckles as Dean walks by him.

 

Pausing mid-step, he turns to Benny in question. He’d thought he’d had his “don’t fuck with me” face on, but hey, today was an off day for him.

 

When Benny just smirks at him, he says, “What’s that supposed to mean, fucker?”

 

“It _means_ you have a possessive bastard on your hands, brother. You have _claimed_ written all over you with that scent,” Benny chuckles. “Did the two of you do the deed before coming in?”

 

“What- _no_ , you douchebag,” Dean splutters, reaching over to sock a laughing Benny in the shoulder.

 

“Don’t go gettin’ your panties in a twist,” Benny rolls his eyes, still laughing to himself. “You musta known as soon as you walked in here we would be givin’ you shit.”

 

“What are you fucking _talking_ about, dude? Think carefully, because I swear to god I’ll punch you again. In the dick,” he swears, pulling back his fist and letting it stay there as a threat. “You know I’ll do it too.”

 

Benny immediately covers his dick protectively, but his grin is apparently permanent this morning. “I’m talking about that boy puttin’ a scent mark on you. All I smell is Alpha, man.”

 

Dean slaps a palm to his face, dragging it down so that Benny can see the daggers he directing at him. “First of all, I’m _pretty_ sure Cas is older than you, so you can’t really call him ‘boy.’ Second, shut the fuck up. I’m wearing Cas’s sweater to prevent throwing my guts up. That’s it.”

 

“Whatever you say, chief,” Benny nods at him, turning away. But as soon as Dean is at his work station he hears Benny bust up laughing again.

 

Mother. Fucker.

 

 

 

 

All day he gets shit on and off from the guys. They come in turns, Benny coming in, then Ash when he takes over for Benny. Even Bobby has a go at him. His only saving grace is the fact that he hadn’t thought ahead enough last night to grab more jackets. So with just his thin zip up underneath and Cas’s sweater over it, his work jumper only covering his bottom half, everyone could see his bump.

 

No one but Benny had really gotten a good look at him until now, so after they said their peace, talked shit the way brothers would, they’d usually leave him alone. Or in Ash’s case, making Dean promise to call him next time the pup kicked so that he could feel it.

 

It was weird actually, to constantly have the smell of Cas underneath his nose. He’d be changing the oil on the car in front of him, the smell thick and sharp, and the next second he’d inhale a dose of Alpha goodness that had him spacey and flushed. But he never once got sick. Randomly horny and embarrassingly wet, yes, but he never felt the urge to puke so he counted this little experiment as a success….and an indicator of the decision he needed to make tonight.

 

Because Cas had been right. And he’d take all the shit he’d gotten today times a thousand if that meant Cas was happy.

 

 

 

 

It’s only nine at night when he pulls into Cas’s driveway.

 

Watching Cas’s front door open and shut, he’s not at all surprised to see Cas standing there in the halo of his porch light, arms crossed, smile on his face, watching him.

 

Huffing quietly, he grabs the bag he packed with all the things he needed for the next few days. Cas had stayed almost the entire weekend during his heat, but this was completely different. His heat was all consuming and took up all their time. Now Dean was just staying with Cas for the hell of it. While sleep was definitely a factor, they could only sleep so much. The rest of the time was up in the air.

 

Smiling at the fucking sappy look on Cas’s face and the excitement coming from his scent, he hips checks Cas on the way to the door. “Shuttup,” he drawls, shaking his head.

 

Cas wraps his arms around Dean’s bump from behind and follows him in.

 

“I don’t recall having spoken, but….as you wish, Dean,” Cas murmurs into his ear.

 

 

 

 

That night was somewhat unremarkable. After an immense late dinner than had Dean swearing he was having twins, he’d all but passed out on Cas the second his head hit the bed.

 

What woke him from his deep sleep though more than made up for it.

 

Without even opening his eyes, his senses filled with _happy_ Alpha. Kisses started being randomly pressed into his neck and back, and he arched into the feeling as arms wrapped around him from behind, hugging him close and rubbing lightly over his belly.

 

“Cas,” he mumbles, leaning his head back on Cas’s shoulder. “Not that I don’t like your lips or anything- cuz I definitely do- but I’m kinda busy at the moment.”

 

“Busy with what, beautiful?” Cas murmurs in his ear, his voice causing slick to gather between his cheeks _real_ quick.

 

“Mmmm,” he hums back, sleepily rubbing himself against Cas, forgetting for a second that he had a point to make. He stills his hips. Oh yeah. “With sleeping.”

 

Cas leans down to suck lightly at Dean’s neck, and Dean instinctively bears it to him, letting the Alpha lick and nip and scent him. “Does that mean you want me to stop?”

 

“No,” he answers way to quickly, but his body is already giving him away, the cloyingly sweet scent of his slick filling the air. He can feel the way Cas is smiling against his neck, that smile that lights up his whole face, and he reaches back to touch Cas’s lips with clumsy fingers. “What’s up with you, little Alpha? Why are you all smiley?”

 

Cas’s arms tighten around Dean’s stomach, and he kisses Dean’s neck again. “You’re twenty weeks today, Dean. Five months,” Cas’s voice trembles with happiness, and Dean blinks in mild astonishment.

 

Holy shit! It felt like he’d just made it to the three month marker yesterday, at the same time it felt like he’d known Cas his whole life, or at least a couple of years! Time was literally flying past him, but if he got to pick when and where he got to stop and take it in, he’d choose right here, right now. With this happy Alpha wrapped around him tight. Placing kisses all over him in between cooing softly at their pup.

 

“Cas,” he whispers through his own smile. “I’m two seconds away from fucking crying, you better stop bein’ cute. I have _no_ control over this.”

 

Laughing softly against Dean’s skin, his fingers slip beneath Dean’s shirt to feel the skin underneath. A little kick makes this moment even more perfect.

 

“It’s alright. I’m fairly certain I will cry with you.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A filler-isn chapter. Hope yawl don't mind too much! Next chapter will be Thanksgiving:)


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAHA bet you were surprised to see an update this soon! I apologize if it's a bit rough, I was writing like a woman possessed this weekend, so I haven't read over it much. Is it weird that this is one of my favorite chapters so far, though? You'll see why ;)

 

 

Fingers curl inside him and his hiss of pleasure is quickly swallowed up by Cas’s lips.

 

They’re on their sides with lips attached, one of Dean’s hands tangled in Cas’s hair while the other jacks their cocks in a firm, steady rhythm. He keeps hitching his leg higher and higher up Cas’s thigh to help Cas on his search for his prostate.

 

It’s funny how this is really the first time they’d done anything other than sleep in this bed, even after having basically lived at Cas’s for going on a week and a half, but Cas had walked in after his run, all sweaty and smelling so fucking good, that one thing had led to another and now here they are; wrapped around each other and panting on the day Sam was supposed to arrive.

 

Originally, he’d just pulled Cas in by his damp shirt, forcing him to strip in stilted, hurried movements until Cas was naked against him. Not bothering to undress himself besides sliding down his boxers- too distracted by Cas’s tongue and teeth and lips, he’d dragged Cas’s hips against his own. He was so fucking turned on, so drunk on Cas’s scent and body, the sweat gathering all over him and making his fingers slip when he tried to get Cas to move closer, he’d quickly wrapped his hands around both their dicks and started to stroke them as Cas attacked his lips and neck.

 

It was only after a couple of minutes when he’d realized he wasn’t getting any closer to coming then when they’d started that he’d dragged one of Cas’s wandering hands and led it to his ass. He hadn’t been touched there since his heat, but the slick slide of Cas’s fingers had felt so familiar and right that he hadn’t freaked or thought twice about his actions.

 

The last couple of mornings he’d woken up a slick mess, his underwear like a second skin, with the memory of Cas inside him leaving him shivery and so fucking aroused he couldn’t help but cling more tightly to the sleeping Alpha next to him. Randomly now, he’d start thinking about it, about letting Cas knot him, and more and more the idea sounded better and better.

 

He let himself think about it now, with the fingers scissoring gently inside him, but they’d be opening him up for something bigger. A lot bigger if memory, and the feeling of Cas’s growing knot between his fingers served him right.

 

“Fuck, Cas,” Dean pants, squeezing the heads with a twist of his wrist. “You close?”

 

Cas bites Dean’s neck softly, his tongue poking out to lick at the salt of Dean’s skin. “Extremely,” he murmurs, thrusting his hips faster into the tunnel of Dean’s hand.

 

God, he could just imagine those thighs- so thick and strong from running- thrusting against him vigorously, the meaty muscle hitting the back of his thighs, skin slapping-

 

He tightens around Cas’s fingers at the thought.

 

“Another?” Cas pants in his ear, and Dean closes his eyes, nodding and starts to stroke them faster. Knowing that he can come untouched isn’t as much of a turn on for him as it is to Cas, so he’s glad he’s the one controlling the motion of their dicks. That part was pretty emasculating, and he’d rather stick to what he’d done for the majority of his life.

 

Sighing as Cas slips another finger in him, his eyes are startled open at the feeling of warm come covering his hand, dick, and lower stomach. But when he sees Cas’s eyes squeezed closed, mouth parted slightly in pleasure as Dean continues to work him through it, he smiles. Dean would usually be so lost in bliss by this point he’d always missed Cas’s O face. Seeing it now, he’s surprised by how much he likes that face. He’s the reason for that face. Even huge and pregnant, Dean can make Cas lose it.

 

It’s only a few moments later, but when Cas gets ahold of himself again, Dean quickly loses his smug grin when Cas redoubles his effort to make Dean come.

 

Ducking his head to suck at one of his nipples, crooking all three fingers just so, Dean forgets about his dick in favor tugging Cas’s head closer to his chest, a deep moan vibrating through his throat as his orgasm hits him like a ton of bricks.

 

Dammit.

 

Cas continues to kiss a pattern up from his chest until he kisses Dean’s lips, smiling into it, and huffing slightly when Dean nips at his bottom lip.

 

“Now we both need a shower,” Dean says breathily, smiling at the face Cas makes when Dean holds his come encrusted hand up as evidence. He’s smiling because otherwise he’d be fucking grossed out. He was still not over how much came out of that thing.

 

“We needed to do that anyway, Dean,” Cas throws an arm around him and starts to drag him towards the edge of the bed. “Your brother should be arriving in only a few short hours.”

 

“Yeah, but _you_ are the one who went running. _I_ am the only one who’s sane enough to stay in bed. How is we both have to get up, now?” he complains, not helping Cas at all as he tries to get them both out of bed.

 

Cas lets him go and heads toward the bathroom, calling over his shoulder, “By all means, stay there. Personally, I’d love to see Sam’s face when he smells you covered in - ”

 

He’s interrupted when Dean throws a pillow at his retreating back, startling him a little, and he turns back around to glare at a smirking Dean.

 

“That’s what you get for being a smart ass, Cas,” Dean says simply. “Wait, ass and Cas sound pretty similar. Has anyone ever called you Asstiel?”

 

Rolling his eyes, Cas is just about done. Walking over to where Dean is perched on the end of the bed, he scoops him up with an arm against his back and the other under his knees.

 

“Oh no, not this shit again,” Dean warns- pushing Cas away by the chest. “Cas. _Cas - ”_

Lifting him up and off the bed, only having to brace himself for a second to accommodate for Dean’s weight, he ignores Dean’s kicks and his pinches as he walks them both to the bathroom. Leaning down a tad, he blows in Dean’s ear in retaliation, enjoying the way Dean pouts.

 

“You’re fucking ridiculous, you know that, right?” Dean grumbles. “I have legs.”

 

“Yes, you do.” Cas agrees, sitting him down on the toilet like he’s made of glass. “But I am fairly certain my way was faster and done with much less complaining.”

 

Turning to start the water and set fresh towels on the rack nearby, he smiles at the feeling of arms wrapping their way around him, Dean’s round stomach pressed against his back in order for him to do so.

 

“God, I still don’t understand how you smell so fucking good,” Dean murmurs in Cas’s ear, turning his head to scent at his neck. “I never thought I’d ever say this, but you smell better than _pie,_ dude.”

 

“That is probably the single most nicest thing anyone has said to me,” Cas deadpans, leaning back slightly when he feels Dean laugh against his neck.

 

He can’t enough of Cas lately. He’s finding any and all excuses to touch him, to scent him, and he refuses to apologize for it. It puts something inside him at ease, makes him fucking _happy_ to be with Cas this way. While he’d usually call Cas the sappy one, he’s guilty of the same offense as of late.

 

Dean continues to scent him until they can see and feel the steam rising from the shower. And since they’d already fooled around beforehand, their shower is quick and to the point- he only presses Cas back against the shower wall _once_ to kiss him breathless- and then they’re back to business. Getting dressed, eating breakfast, kissing on the couch a little, and waiting for Sam’s arrival. He’d insisted on getting a rental car this time instead of having them pick him up, so now all they could do was wait. Impatiently in Dean’s case. Even though he’d seen Sam recently, he was stoked at getting to spend more time with him. And being at Cas’s house while they did that would certainly add a new element to their time.

 

The weekend had turned into a week, and that week hadn’t really ended. He’d never slept as good as he had while sleeping with Cas. Every single morning started with kisses for him and the pup. Every day they got to spend a little time together, and all of their nights. Things were pretty good at the moment. He’d never seen Cas smile this much. So when it came time for Sam’s weekly call, it seemed only natural to invite Sam over to Cas’s house for thanksgiving rather than Dean’s tiny apartment.

 

Although hesitant at first, it hadn’t taken Dean long to convince him of the idea. Having a bed of his own over Dean’s lumpy old couch probably had a lot to do with it as well. And by the end of their call, Sam sounded just as excited as Dean was for turkey day.

 

Cas had volunteered to cook, and when they stopped in to eat lunch at Gabriel’s restaurant, Gabriel had promised to have Dean’s favorites delivered the night before. Not that turkey, ham, and mashed potatoes went together with lasagna and ravioli, but Dean thought the combo sounded fucking delicious. Pies fit in with the traditional spread right? So he wasn’t going too far out of the holiday spectrum. Cas had just smiled at his excitement over Gabe’s offer, and when they left and Cas hugged Gabriel a little longer than he had before, well, he looked away and let them have their moment.

 

The sound of a car pulling into the driveway has him sitting up from where he’d been laying his head in Cas’s lap. Meeting eyes with Cas, he smiles before he’s up and heading for the door.

 

He’s hit with a cold burst of wind when he opens the front door, but he doesn’t let that deter him as he walks out in his socks, crossing his arms and waiting for his brother to get out of the gay ass Rav4 he’d rented. He’s surprised when both driver and passenger doors open.

 

Sam says, “surprise!” and then a little blonde is rounding the car, eyes wide as she looks at Dean. A slow grin grows until she’s smiling ear to ear, and then she’s running forward.

 

“Deanie-weenie!” she yells, holding her arms out.

 

“Barbie!” he laughs, ducking down a little to hug her tightly. His surprise had quickly melted into a bubbling happiness, and neither him nor Jess pulls away from their embrace. She’s pretty small and he’s pretty huge, so she’s basically being smooshed against his bloated belly.

 

“Hey man, I hope you don’t mind that my mate, Jess tagged along? She really wanted to see Dean, and I wanted it to be a surprise. We could stay in a hotel if you’d like,” he can hear Sam talking to Cas.

 

“Nonsense,” Cas says quietly, somewhere behind Dean. “Of course you are both welcome to stay here.”

 

Jess finally pulls away, taking a step back and looking Dean up and down, eyes roving over his stomach intensely. A hand covers her mouth as tears suddenly fill her eyes.

 

“Oh, Dean,” she whispers, and then she’s hugging him again.

 

“I know right? I should _not_ be this friggin’ big,” he chuckles awkwardly, patting her back and blonde curls.

 

“No, that’s not it,” she reassures him, pulling away again to wipe at her mascara. “When Sam told me, I just couldn’t picture it. I had to see you. And you- you look _so_ good, Dean,” she smiles, reaching up to cradle his cheek in one hand. “Sam wasn’t lying about that part, either.”

 

“I told you,” Sam grumbles and pats her shoulder. “Now stop hogging my brother. Weird nick-names aside, he likes me more.”

 

Jess steps back a little and Sam is immediately taking her place, wrapping huge, gangly arms around Dean’s back and trapping Dean’s hands awkwardly against his own chest. “I don’t know about that, Sammy. Jess _is_ a lot prettier than you, dude.”

 

“Can’t argue there,” Sam smiles, pulling back and reaching for Jess’s hand.

 

Seeing their hands intertwine has him turning around and beckoning Cas over. He’d been watching their little reunion scene unfold with soft eyes, keeping his distance, but close enough not to go completely undetected. When he sees Dean motioning for him, he quickly steps into place besides Dean, smiling politely at Sam and Jess.

 

“Oh hey, you must be Castiel,” Jess says, offering Cas her hand which he quickly takes. “My name is Jessica. I’ve heard so much about you! Thank you so much for having us.”

 

“Pleasure to meet you, Jessica,” Cas says formally, but his lips quirk up a little at the edges, softening his gravelly, rough demeanor enough that Jess smiles back at him.

 

“Castiel,” Dean snorts, nudging Cas with his elbow. “Sometimes I forget what a weird ass name you have.”

 

Cas raises a skeptical eyebrow at him. “Deanie- _weenie?”_

Dean blushes and Jess laughs but before he can argue that only Jess gets to call him that, Sam asks, “Have you guys thought about baby names yet? I think between the two of you, you guys have got to have some kind of idea!”

 

Dean and Cas look at each other with blank eyes.

 

“Or not?” Sam asks hesitantly.

 

Dean shivering violently pauses the conversation enough to get them moving inside, Sam, Jess, and Cas grabbing the bags they both packed, shooting down Dean’s offer to help. He’s pissed at the same time as he’s freezing though, so he only puts up a little fight before hurrying inside, rubbing his fingers together and blowing warm breath across them.

 

When he gets the feeling back in them again, he runs his fingers over the sides of his stomach lightly. He and Cas had never really talked about names. Besides Katie and Big Bird that is, he thinks fondly.

 

They’d have to come up with both boy and girl names at this point, not knowing the sex of the pup. Cas had told him they could go in for another ultra-sound when they got closer to his due date, but waiting that long to have some concept of what they wanted to name their child was kind of pushing it in his opinion. Maybe he’d pick up one of those baby names books or something, that way he’d have a bunch of options.

 

“Dean,” Cas says, coming from behind him, caring two duffle bags. “It looks like it may start raining soon, and the temperature will drop accordingly. It might be a good idea to put on another sweater.”

 

“Cas?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Shut up.”

 

 

 

 

They put Sam and Jess up in the guest room farthest away from Cas’s room. It’s not that Dean’s worried about Sam hearing anything coming from the bedroom, it’s the addition of Jess that worries him. _He_ doesn’t want to hear anything coming from _their_ bedroom, and plus, he has the excuse of putting them in the only guest bedroom with it’s own heater.

 

Dean’s hasty switch of their living arrangements has Cas shooting him a confused look, but Dean only shakes his head. They can talk about it later. Now though, they’re all sitting around the kitchen table while Cas makes everyone coffee. Everyone except him, of course.

 

“So how are things in the golden state? See any movie stars lately?” Dean asks them, thoroughly enjoying the way Sam rolls his eyes in exasperation. He likes to ask this question almost every time he talks to Sam, and he usually gets the same sass.

 

“For the millionth time, _no_ , Dean,” Sam says. “Just because we reside in California doesn’t mean we’re near Hollywood.”

 

“Don’t be mad at him, Sam,” Jess smirks, “he’s just disappointed because I haven’t managed to get Dr. Sexy’s autograph like I’d promised him yet.”

 

Dean sputters, cheeks turning red, and Cas pipes, “Who is this Doctor Sexy? And why haven’t I heard of him before?”

 

“Jess!” Dean groans, covering his face. “I’m never telling you anything ever again.”

 

Jess giggles with Sam joining in, but Cas is still frozen, waiting for Dean’s answer which makes him embarrassment a thousand times worse.

 

“No one, Cas! God, is nothing private anymore?!”

 

“Aren’t you a doctor, Castiel?” Jess asks. “Maybe that’s why Dean has such heart eyes for you? You must remind him of - ”

 

“-what the _FUCK_ , Jess!” Dean squawks, banging his hands on the table, making everyone jump. “I swear to god I’ll tell Sam about that time in Vegas.”

 

“No!” Jess squeaks, eyes round, looking nervously between Dean and Sam.

 

“Yes!”

 

“ _What_ happened in Vegas?” Sam asks immediately.

 

“Nothing, Sam! Dean you pinky swore you wouldn’t say anything!”

 

“Dean, _who_ is Doctor Sexy?”

 

“Cas, I told you, he’s no one.”

 

“He’s a hot Alpha doctor on tv, Castiel, and Dean has had a crush on him since - ”

 

“Sam, Jess threw up on your tooth brush on that trip to Vegas. But she was afraid of telling you so she washed it and put it back - ”

 

“DEAN!”

 

“WHAT?! You let me use it again after you threw up on it?! Oh god. I think I’m going to be sick - ”

 

“You had a crush on this ‘Doctor Sexy’? You told me you didn’t enjoy medical dramas. They are highly inaccurate the majority of the time, but if you wanted to watch this actor you could have said - ”

 

“I don’t have a stupid crush on him, Cas! I have no idea what Jess is even talking - ”

 

“Don’t you even start, Dean Winchester, you told me you liked the way he wore his cowboy boots when he - ”

 

“BLAH BLAH BLAH. Oh hey look, the pup is kicking!”

 

Silence.

 

Everyone crowds around Dean. Jess squeals when Dean places her hand where the pup is kicking. Everyone looks around at each other with awe. Cas kisses the top of Dean’s head when Jess and Sam are too distracted with feeling the pup move.

 

Yeah, his life is pretty great at the moment.

 

 

 

 

 

Thanksgiving, like any respectable holiday, is a little chaotic.

 

Cas is up and out of bed way too fucking early, telling Dean to go back to sleep while he preps everything in the kitchen. But for whatever reason, Dean decides to ignore Cas for once. Following Cas blurrily, he sits down on the barstool at the island, puts his head down on his crossed arms, and watches as Cas moves around the kitchen. He should probably help, or at least repeat the recipes Cas has laid out so Cas doesn’t have to keep going back and forth between the refrigerator and the pantry, but Cas’s furrowed brow and confused head tilt is really too amusing to risk intervening.

 

When Sam and Jess slowly make their way out from their room with almost identical bed-head, Jess has no problem stepping in and taking control of the kitchen for which Cas is eternally grateful.

 

For whatever reason, Gabe hadn’t been able to drop off the food he’d promised last night, but around eleven, he comes by with about a dozen pie boxes and four bags of food piled high in the back of his BMW. He’s got plans somewhere or another, but that doesn’t stop him from pestering Cas in the kitchen, and taking a weird interest in Sam’s height, giving Dean plenty of new ammo in case Sam starts being a little shit. When he leaves, Dean and Sam reluctantly head for the living room when they’re kicked out of the kitchen, and they end up watching football. Neither of them is particularly interested in the teams playing, and Dean ends up falling asleep before half-time, but hey, that’s what you did on thanksgiving.

 

Waking up, there’s a noticeable difference to the way he’s feeling. Blinking rapidly, feeling a little nauseous, he sits up and leans over his knees, breathing heavily through his nose. Sam is by his side immediately, hand going to his back.

 

“Dean, what’s wrong?” Sam asks him, worried.

 

Squinting his eyes and trying to pinpoint what was bothering him, nothing comes to mind except a weird smell and the fact that he needs to take a piss.

 

“S’nothing. Just gotta go to the bathroom,” he says, standing quickly and shuffling down the hall.

 

He hears Sam mutter, “Shit man, don’t scare me like that,” but Dean’s too focused on not tripping over his feet and to respond.

 

When he’s done relieving himself, still not feeling too hot and feeling way too warm, he decides to check on Cas and Jess in the kitchen.

 

Which is a huge mistake.

 

As soon as he walks into the kitchen, the smell of cooking meat hits him _hard._ He has a second to think _that’s probably the turkey,_ before he loses all control of himself. In the next second, he’s throwing up all over himself and the kitchen floor, surprising not only himself, but Cas and Jess as well. And it doesn’t stop, he tries to put a hand over his mouth, still too stunned to move much more than that, but the gagging doesn’t stop. That _smell_ is stuck in his nose, and his hands shake as he just stands there in shock.

 

“Dean!” Cas yells, dropping whatever was in his hands and running over to him.

 

Dean looks up at him with wide, scared eyes as Cas pets his hair and his lower back, Jess and Sam standing a little off to the side, asking questions and trying to figure out what’s wrong, Sam’s voice getting louder and louder, his voice ringing in Dean’s ear.

 

“It’s alright, Dean,” Cas soothes, pulling Dean’s head into the crook of his neck, forcing Dean to scent him instead of that horrible other smell, tucking Dean close to him despite probably getting vomit all over him. “You’re okay.”

 

“That smell,” he moans pathetically, fisting his hands in Cas’s shirt, so overwhelmed, and trying not to gag again. Cas’s scent masks it a little, but not enough.

 

“Shit, shit,” he spins away from Cas frantically, stumbling to the bathroom with Cas hot on his heels. He makes it just in time, falling to his knees and throwing up again in the toilet. “Fuck,” he breathes, panting when the vomit clogs his nose up. “Shut the door, Cas!”

 

He doesn’t get to see Jess and Sam’s concerned faces, but he can only imagine if Cas’s scent is anything to go by. Cas’s stress and concern mixed with his own distress is doing nothing to soothe his frazzled nerves.

 

Cas is squatting next to him, fingers combing Dean’s hair back from his face as Dean continues to lean over the toilet.

 

“It’s okay, Dean,” Cas is whispering to him, the only thing he’s hears besides the roaring in his ears. “Breathe. It’s okay, it’s going to be okay.”

 

When Dean is finally done, he plops down on his ass for about three seconds before Cas is pulling him onto his lap, dragging Dean until he’s safely cradled between Cas’s arms and legs, face tucked under Cas’s chin again and pressed to Cas’s neck. His whole body is shaking, and his breathing is still out of whack, but the way Cas surrounds him, holding him so tightly he couldn’t fall apart even if he wanted to, has Dean closing his eyes and nuzzling closer.

 

“Dean?” Sam calls cautiously from the other side of the door. “Cas, is everything alright?”

 

“Yes, Dean is fine,” Cas calls back softly, his voice sending vibrations through Cas’s chest, soothing Dean a little more. Fingers start making their way through Dean’s hair again. “But we need a few moments.”

 

“Of course,” Jess says. “Don’t worry about anything, Deanie-weenie, we’ll be here when you feel better.”

 

Dean chuckles, a weak, disgusting sound at the nickname, and Cas clutches him closer. Dean sighs deeply, still unwilling to open his eyes at the sound of two retreating footsteps.

 

“M’sorry, Cas,” Dean says, voice deep and hoarse after his impromptu barfing session. He bites his lip hard, frustrated with himself for ruining the first real holiday he’s had in a long time. And to make matters worse, he realizes for the first time how wet the spot he’d been laying his head on is. Silent, deceptive tears had been making there way down his face without him even noticing, adding tears as well as throw up to Cas’s poor shirt.

 

“Sorry for what, beautiful?” Cas murmurs, stroking his tears away with gentle fingers. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

 

Dean’s laugh sounds more like a sob. “Don’t call me fucking beautiful when I just threw up all over you and your house, man. Just don’t. And don’t say I don’t have anything to apologize for, either. I fucked up.”

 

“Dean,” Cas sighs, kissing Dean’s clammy forehead. “We’ll have to agree to disagree on that one. You’re always beautiful.”

 

Dean shakes his head, hiding his ugly mug against Cas’s neck at the feeling of more tears slipping down his cheeks. He had no fucking control over anything he was feeling right now, and he just wanted it to stop, or for something to at least make sense.

 

“What happened, Dean?” Cas murmurs quietly. “Were you not feeling well? Or did something set you off?”

 

His stomach seizes as he remembers exactly what set him off.

 

“That smell - ” he manages to choke, “the turkey, I think. Ugh,” he swallows repeatedly to keep down whatever is left in his stomach.

 

“Okay, okay,” Cas says, lightly massaging the back of Dean’s head, the other rubbing circles into Dean’s back.

 

They lapse into silence for a few minutes, Cas continuing to hold him while Dean tries somewhat successfully to gain a modicum of control back. He doesn’t try to sit up yet, afraid any sudden movements will make the urge to puke reemerge, and he doesn’t dwell on the fact that he’s letting Cas comfort him for pretty much the first time ever after a freak out of this magnitude. He’d usually try to handle shit on his own, preferring solitude so that no one saw his weakness, shutting down and shutting out everything and everyone around him was just easier.

 

But the thought of letting Cas go right now, of sitting here cold and alone without the familiar and comforting scent of Alpha affection and concern...was physically painful. He’s sitting sideways on Cas’s lap, his knees tucked to his stomach as much as possible, but now he works his arms around Cas’s back from where they’d been tucked against his own chest. Sighing in relief when Cas only shifts a little to accommodate him before holding him tighter again.

 

“You know,” Cas muses some minutes later, “It’s actually quite common for the smell of cooking meat to make pregnant individuals sick. With your heightened sense of smell during pregnancy, anything could act as a catalyst. I’ve had patients come in complaining about an overwhelming aversion to toothpaste, a particular brand of deodorant, Slim Jims, bacon, and even their mate’s morning breath. It seems we found out what makes you sick the hard way, I’m afraid,” Cas finishes sadly, tipping Dean’s head back to look down into red-rimmed, miserable eyes.

 

He hates seeing Dean so distraught, hates to see the man break down like this, but he’s also extremely grateful that Dean isn’t fighting him. He would have been driving himself insane with worry if he was on the other side of that door, not knowing what was going on with his mate. _Not his mate_ , he chastises himself mentally, glad that his mistake was made silently. God, if Dean would have heard him, he couldn’t even imagine how he’d react.

 

“Go figure,” Dean mutters nasally- still completely stuffed up-rolling his eyes. “The one food that makes thanksgiving- _thanksgiving_ is the thing that makes me projectile vomit like the fucking exorcist. Greaaaat. Guess I’ll be spending the next couple of hours in here, then.”

 

“Don’t be absurd. You can’t stay here, Dean. The smell will eventually trickle throughout the house and will most likely linger for hours if not days. Unless your willing to test the theory?”

 

“Fuck no,” Dean groans, dropping his head back onto Cas’s shoulder.

 

“That’s what I thought. How do you feel about moving our little group to your apartment? That was the original idea, after all,” Cas suggests.

 

Dean goes quiet for a little, thinking it over, and finally breathes a big, shaky breath.

 

“Okay,” Dean sighs. “That sounds a hellova a lot better than eating pie in the bathroom. You don’t think it’ll bother the children?” he asks, referring to Sam and Jess who were probably climbing the walls waiting for them.

 

“No, I should think not,” Cas says. “Do you feel well enough to stand up? I should grab a few things and let the others know before we leave.”

 

“I’m good,” he tells Cas, but neither of them try to move.

 

Both of them are reluctant to shatter whatever moment they’re having, this little bubble of intimacy they’d touched on but never explored in depth. Throwing up aside, the last couple of minutes with Cas hadn’t been too awful.

 

“I’m really good, Cas. We should probably get up now,” he says reluctantly, his voice almost back to normal again.

 

Cas nods, letting go of Dean slowly, his fingers never really leaving him as Dean maneuvers himself off of Cas’s lap to sit on the lid of the closed toilet. Cas stands and fishes under the sink until he finds a wash cloth. Running it under hot water, he rings it out before handing it to Dean, who takes it gratefully. He probably looked just as gross as he feels.

 

“I’ll be right back, Dean,” Cas tells him, smiling a tiny smile Dean is sure is only for his benefit. And then he’s ducking out, closing the door right behind him.

 

Sighing heavily and scrubbing an exhausted hand over his face only to be reminded that he’s still got vomit down the front of his shirt, he shakes in head and wipes the warm cloth over his face, blowing his nose into when he’s done.

 

Well… he hadn’t seen thanksgiving going quite like this. But then again, his pup just _loved_ to keep him on his toes.

 

“You think you’re _so_ funny, don’t you little pudger?” he murmurs softly, sliding a hand underneath his shirt to caress the bottom of his bump. “Haven’t called you that in a while, huh? Maybe it’s because you’re not so little any more… I thought I told you to settle down with the whole growing thing? I definitely remember saying that. If you could listen to me just this once, that’d really be something.”

 

He sits there for what feels like a really long time, rubbing his stomach with his eyes closed, before he finally hears a knock at the door. Cas steps in, wearing a different shirt and two other articles of clothing in his hands.

 

“The car is all packed up, and Sam and Jessica have agreed to meet us there,” Cas says, handing a clean sweater to Dean. “I thought you‘d appreciate a change of clothes. The other shirt is to press to your nose as we walk out.”

 

“Thanks, man,” he says, accepting the shirt easily and immediately shrugs out of the one he’s wearing. He’s really limited on clothes that fit right now, so he actually doesn’t have anything underneath.

 

“You’re very welcome,” Cas says quietly, watching from his spot leaning against the door.

 

When Dean is ready to go, bringing the shirt cautiously to cover his nose and mouth, he recognizes Cas’s scent rather than his own. He’s about to pull it away to examine it when Cas wraps an arm around his waist and opens the door, pulling his out and into the hallway.

 

They make their way quickly to the front door, not stopping or dawdling, and Dean holds his breath the entire time despite Cas’s scent being the most dominant smell to him. He does not want to risk ruining another one of his or Cas’s shirts.

 

Feeling cold air on his face finally, he lowers the shirt from his face and turns his face to smile hesitantly at Cas. “That was easier than I thought it would be.”

 

Thanks to Cas thinking ahead and thinking about the small things that would make this the least painful for Dean.

 

Cas nods, his arm moving around Dean’s shoulders instead of his back. “Are you ready to leave? I think there is a possibility we might get rained on in a few minutes, and it would be terribly disappointing to let all that pie go to waste.”

 

Dean smirks at him as they start walking. “You sure do know how to motivate me.”

 

“If I remember correctly, you said I smelled _better_ than pie, Dean.”

 

Apparently they’re leaving behind his baby, Cas unlocking and opening the door to his little prius, so Dean ducks into the passenger seat reluctantly.

 

“Words I’m already regretting,” he laments, shaking his head as he looks around Cas’s car.

 

But when Cas pulls out of the driveway and begins the familiar drive to his apartment, he reaches over to intertwine his fingers with Cas’s.

 

 

 

 

 

There must have been some kind of unspoken agreement between the three of them not to bring up what had happened at Cas’s house, because for the rest of the day it’s never mentioned. They sit at Dean’s tiny table, the couch pulled up to it to make up for his lack of chairs, and they pick up where they left off. Sure, the turkey and ham are noticeably missing, but thanks to Gabe’s freak’in amazing lasagna, thanksgiving dinner isn’t a total bust.

 

Having chosen to sit with Cas on the couch instead of the hard plastic chairs, Dean leans back against the cushions with his fourth slice of pie, watching in amusement as his brother makes puppy dog eyes at Jess. God, they’re just as disgustingly in love as they were when they’d first became mates, and that fact had Dean smiling around his bite of pumpkinny goodness.

 

“How long do you guys get to stay for, again?” he interrupts whatever moment they were having. He’d hate for today to be the last time they got to hang out for a while. Especially after the change of venue.

 

Sam turns back to meet Dean’s eyes. “We fly out tomorrow night. But uh- not to kill the buzz for thanksgiving or anything, but I was hoping to discuss Christmas.”

 

“Oh?” he says curiously. “What do you have in mind, Sammy?”

 

“Just because you and Jess have nicknames for each other doesn’t mean you have to call me Sammy, Dean,” Sam sighs, but then he grins, “This. I want to do this again. It’s been nice just getting to spend time with you again. And I swear you’ve already grown so much since the last time I’ve seen you, man. It’s incredible to witness. And Jess agrees,” he says, looking over to Jess, who nods. “We both want to be here for you. With you, I mean. You too, Cas,” Sam adds, sending a genuine smile his way as well.

“Really?” Dean asks skeptically. “You really wanna do this again after today?”

 

“Dean,” Cas says softly, only catching his eyes for a second before he’s looking back at Sam incredulously. “We don’t need turkey or ham or any other kind of meat to make a holiday.”

 

“Exactly right, Castiel,” Jess giggles. “Lets put it to a vote, shall we? All those in favor of a vegetarian Christmas, raise your hands.”

 

Jess, Sam, and Cas all raise their hands with pointed looks at Dean, but Dean just laughs and rolls his eyes. But his chest still feels kinda fuzzy looking around and seeing all their support.

 

“While I appreciate the sentiment, we could just order lasagna again,” Dean says, nodding to the empty glass pan that had previously held said meal.

 

“ _That_ would probably be a smarter choice,” Sam says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Though I’m not opposed to a vegetarian option every now and again.”

 

“We get it,” Dean groans, pretending to be disappointed with his brother. “You like salad. But that’s not a good enough reason to make the rest of us suffer, dude.”

 

“Yes, Dean, because all of us here share your allergy for vegetables,” Sam says sarcastically, narrowing his eyes at Dean.

 

“ _Thank you_ for finally acknowledging my allergy. If only Cas would do the same,” he smirks, looking sideways at Cas.

 

“No.” is all Cas says, tilting his head at Dean, face completely serious and straight.

 

Sam and Jess crack up, and Dean can’t help but laugh a little too. Scooting over enough so that their knees are touching, Dean nudges Cas, smiling himself when Cas finally breaks and looks at him with a suspicious little grin.

 

Over all, not a bad night.

 

 

 

 

 

Dean is silent in the shower that night. Thinking things over as he and Cas share the same little space, brushing against each other every few seconds, Cas lathering up and scrubbing Dean’s shoulders. He’s thinking about today, about how far the two of them have come, the progress they made from day one.

 

For a few weeks of his life, he’d _hated_ Castiel.

 

For coming into his life and shaking him to his very foundation. For making him reevaluate his life, and for making him hate himself even more than he’d already had.

 

But now? Hate was the farthest thing from what he was feeling towards Cas.

 

Thinking about putting a name towards that feeling scared the shit out of him, but so did the thought of losing him. All through out their time together, Cas had been his rock, a steady pillar for Dean to lean on when things got rough, and he’d never once faltered. Cas has had his back through everything. And at this point, he was pretty positive he couldn’t go forward without the Alpha by his side.

 

Cas had changed him. Changed him so goddamn much his old self probably wouldn’t recognize his present self without all the baggage Cas had managed to coax from his shoulders.

 

But it was a good change.

 

He felt lighter, _happier_ than he could remember being in a long time. Too long, really. He’d been going through his life with dark clouds trailing his every footstep, looming over him, just waiting for him to make a mistake and have every single building block he’d made for himself come crumbling down at his feet. And the funny thing is, that they _had._ He’d hit rock bottom, he’d reached his lowest of lows, but Cas had been there to pick up the pieces and make him semi whole again.

 

It was a weird experience to feel all his walls come down in response to something so small. Something so insignificant in the face of everything that had gone down between the two of them. But when Cas had held him earlier today, held him tight and poured comfort and devotion into every touch… something inside him had shifted.

 

And he was finally ready to give Cas his complete trust if not something more.

 

They’d pretty much forced Sam and Jess to go back to Cas’s to sleep, Cas insisting that they sleep on a bed rather than a couch, so they had the apartment to themselves.

 

It was quiet as they exited the shower together, towels loosely wrapped around both their waists, Dean having to hold his while Cas’s was tucked in. But instead of following Cas to Dean’s closet to get something to sleep in, he bites his lip, frozen on the spot, staring at the bed he hadn’t slept in for almost two weeks.

 

It seemed fitting that they were here, where everything had began.

 

Taking a deep breath, he walks around the bed to wrap his arms around Cas from behind- not even bothering to keep his hold he’d had on his towel- pressing in close to him, kissing his shoulders and neck.

 

“Dean,” Cas sighs softly, covering Dean’s arms with his own. He only stiffens a tiny bit when Dean works his towel free and lets it fall to the floor.

 

Naked skin meets naked skin.

 

He noses against Cas’s neck, scenting him, as he slowly slides his hand down Cas’s body until he’s lightly stroking the base of Cas’s dick, making his intentions clear. Cas must agree with the direction this night is going, because he doesn’t stop Dean, doesn’t do anything other than lean back into him as he coaxes Cas to hardness with varying pressures on his strokes. He can feel himself getting wet, the scent of slick beginning to fill the room along with Alpha arousal, but he ignores it for now it favor of making Cas feel good.

 

Cas is breathing heavily, a light sheen of sweat beginning to gloss over the skin of his back, but Dean is just about done with only getting to see the back of Cas’s head. Grabbing his shoulder and spinning him around roughly, he immediately crashes their lips together, fingers working their way through Cas’s hair to hold him in place. He’s licking into Cas’s mouth, Cas giving just as good as he’s getting, at the same time he’s letting Cas walk them backwards to the bed.

 

Cas guides him into sitting on the bed, but he doesn’t stay there. And he doesn’t let go of Cas either. Scooting up the bed and moving so they’re laying length wise of the bed, he makes sure to take Cas with him as he lays back completely; pulling him so that he’s on top of Dean, arms on either side of Dean’s head as their lips connect again.

 

“You’re so beautiful, Dean,” Cas pulls away to pant against Dean’s neck. “So beautiful. It’s not even remotely fair.”

 

Dean’s breathing heavily too, but he still laughs, digging his fingers into the muscles of Cas’s back a little. “Not fair, huh?”

 

“No,” Cas murmurs. “Not at all. Not with what you do to me,” he punctuates his words with a little thrust of his hips, rubbing his erection against Dean’s.

 

“Cas. How is this not fair?” he asks, biting his lip and taking Cas’s hand and leading it to where he’s dripping slick all over the backs of his thighs. Cas’s eyes darken with lust when he feels it, sliding his fingers through his wetness until he’s gently circling Dean’s rim.

 

“Mmmm,” Dean hums, closing his eyes and widening his legs a little in invitation. A finger immediately dips inside him, just the tip at first then up to the first knuckle. The single digit starts sliding in and out of him, twisting, before a second slides in him just as easily.

 

He can feel Cas rocking his hips a little against the thigh between his legs, precome painting it with tiny brushes. Cas still has him pinned, but with his bump in the way, it makes it nearly impossible to kiss at the same time as what they’re doing now. Not like they’d be able to keep their lips together long though, with the way both their breaths are falling heavy in the silence of his bedroom.

 

Reaching for a pillow, he stuffs it under his head so he can see Cas better, heat coursing through him when he sees Cas’s eyes focused between Dean’s legs, lust coming thick and strong from the Alpha on top of him. Cas’s biceps are flexing, holding his weight off of Dean, and Dean wants nothing more at that moment to kiss and bite very single piece of his skin, every one of those toned muscles.

 

Eyes snapping shut and legs spasming when a twist of the two fingers inside him brush against his prostate, a startled moan as Cas smiling deviously and crawling backwards down the bed.

 

Shifting Dean’s legs up so that they are bent at the knees and then apart, he lays down flat on his stomach between them, removing his fingers and replacing them with his tongue.

 

“Ahhh,” he gasps, tilting his hips up towards Cas’s questing tongue. It flicks against his hole, teasing him and driving him crazy, before Cas readjusts his grip and points his tongue, working the wet, warm thing inside him.

 

His mouth falls open, eyes closed and hips working against Cas’s face, the bed moving in weird shakes as he squirms and Cas thrusts against the bed. He already feels close, already a white mist is beginning to converge around the corners of his mind, but fuck, it’s so hard to think straight with Cas blowing his mind the way only he knows how.

 

 _Fuck_ he had a purpose. He was supposed to be doing something!

 

Shaking his head to clear it, he still moans when Cas adds both his fingers along with his tongue. It’s with great difficulty that he tries to find his voice again.

 

“Wa- oh. Cas, wait,” Dean pants, reaching down to pat his thick head of hair.

 

Cas does not look too happy to be interrupted, but he stops, lifting his head to poke over Dean’s stomach but leaving his fingers where they are; curling them slowly while Cas looks to him in question, something shiny around the edges of his mouth.

 

“Oh fuck,” he moans. _It’s slick._ “Cas, come here,” he demands hoarsely, hands already reaching out for him.

 

Carefully arranging himself so that he’s on all fours, hovering over Dean and keeping the weight of the pup, filling his vision completely, Dean wraps his arms around Cas’s neck to take his lips, the taste of his own slick on Cas’s tongue filling his mouth. When Cas realizes that Dean is tasting himself, a growl starts low in this throat, rumbling through his chest and sending goose bumps up Dean’s spine.

 

He’s so fucking hyper aware now, feeling every part of Cas and wanting _more._ He feels fucking electric. And these slow, deep kisses and the way he’s still spread wide open for Cas has him impossibly turned on. He’s ready. They’re ready.

 

Pushing Cas’s shoulders back a little, Cas gets the picture and lets Dean manipulate him until he’s where Dean wants him. With their bottom halves aligned. Cas is looking at him, confused, until Dean places both hands against Cas’s back and pushes him _down_ , lifting his legs at the same time so that Cas’s cock brushes his hole for the first time in more than five months.

 

“Dean,” Cas hisses desperately, eyes wide and overwhelmed, gripping Dean’s thighs, thumbs stroking tiny circles. “Dean. Are you absolutely positive that this is what you want?”

 

“I want you. Want to feel you,” he murmurs quietly, putting his pride aside for the moment so that there can be no misunderstandings.

 

This is completely his choice.

 

Things are a little different this time around, he’s huge for one, pregnant with Cas’s pup unlike the first time, so his body has definitely changed. But he feels different mentally as well as physically. He’s not drunk, he doesn’t hate himself- at the moment anyway-and he’s absolutely, one hundred percent certain of Cas.

 

Cas’s breath stutters a little, and his eyes close with sudden emotion. When he opens them again to look up at Dean, they are a little wet, causing Dean’s throat to feel dry and chest to feel so full he thinks he might burst.

 

“As you wish, Dean,” Cas whispers roughly, leaning down to kiss Dean’s stomach.

 

Dean smiles at the reminder of that night, but mouth quickly parts again when Cas thrusts lightly against him, rubbing the head of his cock against his rim, coating it in slick, getting his dick wet in preparation to enter him.

 

He’s so fucking wet, there’s no need for extra prep.

 

“I’m ready,” Dean pants, squeezing at Cas’s shoulders. “Go, Cas.”

 

Cas moans, tucking his head against Dean’s bump before guiding just the blunt tip of his cock inside Dean.

 

It’s hot and thick, stretching him a little more than Cas’s fingers had, and he automatically shifts his hips farther apart, letting his legs wrap around Cas’s thighs.

 

Cas barely moves his hips, working each torturously delicious inch as slow as fucking possible into him. It must be because Cas is afraid of hurting him, but there’s literally no pain at all as Cas fills him up, just heat, just sweet pressure that has him throwing his head back and biting back his moans.

 

And then it stops- Cas’s hips snug against the back of his, balls pressed his ass and his thick cock all the way seated inside him. He shivers, tightening around Cas instinctively, wringing out a shocked moan from Cas who thrusts a little at the feeling then freezes.

 

Holding himself there, tense all over, he can feel Cas shaking as he tries to remain perfectly still.

 

Sliding one of his hands from Cas’s shoulder into his hair, he whispers, “C’mon, baby. Move.”

 

Cas gasps at the endearment, but does as he’s told; pulling out slowly before pushing back in. Shallowly at first, then pulling all the way out and thrusting in deep.

 

“Oh fuck, Cas,” Dean pants, then moans at a particularly hard thrust. “Oh god - ”

 

Cas works his knees underneath him a little so that he’s basically kneeling between Dean’s legs, working his hips harder and harder into Dean as he tries to establish a rhythm. The slow drag of Cas’s cock inside him, big and hot and fucking perfect has him clenching around Cas, trying to keep him longer on every downward stroke; whining softly when Cas inevitable pulls out only to thrust bright back in again.

 

“Dean,” Cas moans, working Dean’s cheeks apart to spread him wider. “Jesus- you feel so good. You’re perfect. Perfect for me, beautiful.”

 

Working his hips, meeting each of Cas’s thrusts now, he’s barely aware that he’s moaning- long and loud now- the sound only synchronizing with the wet _slap slap_ of Cas fucking him into the mattress and the headboard tapping quietly against the wall.

 

Dean cries out, legs climbing higher up Cas’s thighs when Cas finds that spot inside him. “Shit! Ahhh- _Cas_!”

 

Locking his arms to give him enough height to see Dean’s face, Castiel moves his hips in exactly the same way, nailing Dean’s prostate and tearing a rough shout from the man underneath him. Gritting his teeth, and trying to push down his own pleasure, wanting this to last longer than a few minutes, he does it again and again, until there are tears of pleasure leaking from the corners of Dean’s eyes, and his moans have turned into hoarse sobs.

 

“Yes, Cas! _God,”_ Dean all but whimpers, his breath stuttering in his throat. He feels wild, and out of control, and fucking _loved._ Cas ripping him apart but keeping him firmly together at the same time.

 

This is a completely different experience than the first time.

 

The only thing exactly the same- Dean comes with Cas’s name on his lips.

 

Squeezing all his muscles around Cas’s cock, his orgasm blinds him, has him writhing underneath Cas as Cas fucks him through it, fingers digging deep into the muscles of Cas’s back.

Cas clenches his eyes shut tightly, staving off his own orgasm. His knot is almost all the way formed, only allowing for small thrusts now as Dean goes loose and pliant onto the bed, his ass still clenched tight around his aching cock. He only has a few more thrusts before he won’t be able to pull out anymore, and Dean hadn’t said if he’d wanted Castiel to knot him or not.

 

“Dean,” he gasps against the skin of Dean’s belly. “Dean, you need to tell me if this is alright.”

 

Dean has his eyes closed, almost as if he were sleeping, but fingers tangle in his hair again as Dean squeezes his thighs together and mumbles, “Go ahead, little Alpha. S’not like I can get more pregnant.”

 

A startled laugh works its way out of his throat, but the slight vibrations it causes has his brain quickly turning off.

 

Pulling out and pushing back into Dean’s wet heat, he only needs a few more thrusts before his knot locks them together. Eyes closing in ecstasy as he lets go, he can feel Dean squirming and moaning quietly as he’s filled with warm come.

 

It’s minutes later that he’s ready to move, his arms about ready to give out from underneath him. Turning slightly and tucking his arms underneath Dean, he rolls them so that Dean is partially on top of him now, knot still keeping them connected, Castiel on his back and Dean’s head cushioned on his sweaty chest.

 

Dean is quiet the entire time, only turning his head enough to reposition his nose along Cas’s neck so that he can scent him. Castiel closes his eyes as well, the steady feel of Dean’s heartbeat making everything inside him feel content.

 

“Well…” Dean whispers. “Fuck.”

 

“Fuck, indeed.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooooo..... whatcha think?


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know some of you are probably pissed at me for not updating sooner. Believe me, I like it as much as you do. But my school schedule and work load is ridiculous right now, and I'm lucky if I get a few minutes here and there to write. Just know that as soon as I can update- I will. If it takes a little longer, rest assured that I'm trying my best!

 

 

He’s not really one to feel particularly sentimental or clingy after sex. So he’s a kinda surprised that he feels a little bit of both when he opens his eyes and realizes that Cas is already awake and staring at him from across the pillow.

 

Hair either matted down or sticking up in random tufts, soft blue eyes trained on him and an even softer smile….the four inches between them seemed way too far.

 

“C’mere you freak,” he murmurs hoarsely, already reaching for him before Cas starts moving. Pulling him in so that Cas’s head is cradled to his chest, crazy hair tickling his chin. Cas wraps himself around Dean’s stomach, hands going to rub at his bare skin while Dean’s fingers attempt to comb their way through Cas’s chronic bedhead. “You know it’s rude to stare, right? ‘Specially when they’re sleeping.”

 

He can feel Cas’s smile against his chest. “I’m not sorry, Dean.”

 

Dean chuckles quietly, closing his eyes and keeps kneading his fingers against Cas’s scalp like Cas does to him. He can feel Cas pressing kisses into his skin, but otherwise it’s silent in the early morning light. After a night like last night, he could very happily go back to sleep. Or maybe this was enough; laying here with a sleepy Alpha, soft skin touching soft skin with no barriers in between them.

 

Everything is so fucking peaceful and _nice._ He feels fucking fantastic at the moment, all loose limbed and relaxed, and both their scents are fucking broadcasting bliss. His heart is pretty heavy thinking about it, but last night and right now? Made him unbelievably…happy? He was so unfamiliar with the emotion he wasn’t even sure if he was labeling it correctly. Whatever it was, he felt pretty damn content.

 

And he didn’t want it to end. He didn’t want to stop touching Cas or have Cas unwrap himself from around him despite knowing they’d eventually have to get up if they planned on keeping their plans with Sam and Jess to have breakfast.

 

“What woke you?” Cas breaks him out of his reverie with his quiet question, spoken against Dean’s skin. “I was going to let you sleep a little longer before breakfast.”

 

Racking his brain and trying to think beyond the scent of Alpha filling all of his senses, he vaguely remembers a moment right before he woke up where he felt something shift inside him.

 

“Pretty sure it was either the pup kick’in me or my creeper radar goin off,” he says fondly, patting Cas’s head when it automatically pops up at his words.

 

“The pup has been moving?” Cas says in excitement, renewing the speed of his strokes over Dean’s belly. “I haven’t felt anything yet.”

 

Keeping his eyes closed, he guides Cas’s head back down to his chest, only meeting a tiny bit of resistance as he does so. No matter how much the pup decided to move, Cas always fangirled. “Yeah. Just give it a minute, little Alpha.”

 

It’s quiet again for a few minutes as they continue to nuzzle and touch and groom in Dean’s case- even if Cas’s hair refused to cooperate. Cas’s body heat is keeping him pleasantly warm and cozy, both of them still naked as they press together tightly, and if they weren’t expected to appear in public shortly, he’d be pretty okay with staying like this all day.

 

“What’s it like?” Cas whispers to him sometime later.

 

“What’s what like?” he mumbles back sleepily. He’d almost fell into a doze while he’d been petting Cas, only aided by the never ceasing movement of Cas’s fingers on his stomach. Sometimes he kind of felt like a dog getting their belly rubbed, but it felt too good to complain.

 

“Feeling the pup move,” Cas clarifies, a note of reverence in his voice that makes Dean smile. Leave it to Cas to be even more sappy than him after sex.

 

“I don’t know, man. It’s hard to say,” Dean says, and then pauses to really think about it. “Sometimes…Sometimes none of this feels real, y’know? All of it. It’s so far out of what I pictured for myself. But uh- when I feel the pup movin’ inside me, something I _know_ that I- _we_ put there… It’s real. Don’t know how it happened but…but every time I feel it move or kick or do anything really, I just think, _holy shit,_ that’s my baby in there. I like feeling it move. It’s kinda exciting; kinda scary.”

 

“More exciting than scary, I hope?” Cas asks cautiously, but Dean can hear the hope in his voice as well.

 

And Dean has to open his eyes. Has to let Cas know in some little way how much has changed between them. “Yeah. A lot of things that used to scare me aren’t so scary anymore.”

 

He shoots a pointed look down at Cas, whose eyes widen in understanding.

 

He’s not afraid of Cas or even the role Cas is playing in his life.

 

Smiling, and using his arms for leverage as he makes his way back up to Dean, Cas takes his face between both palms and kissing him solidly. All the joy and relief comes flooding off of Cas, making him smile into their kiss, not even noticing his own scent of satisfaction mixing with Cas’s.

 

Satisfaction soon turns into a different scent though, when their kiss turns more heated. His hands are everywhere; roaming all over the naked expanse of Cas’s back, in his hair, touching his face. Taking in tiny breaths when he can afford them between deep, searching kisses, new slick starts to leak out between his legs, his hole still feeling open and loose from last night. But just when he’s about to hitch his thigh over Cas’s and take this to a degree that resembled last night, they’re interrupted by a perfectly placed, perfectly _timed_ kick between them.

 

Noses touching and breaths still coming quick between them, Dean chuckles and looks down. “Told you.”

 

“This child has impeccable timing,” Cas narrows his eyes and starts to scoot back down Dean’s body. “Don’t you, little one?”

 

Sighing and rolling onto his back to give Cas more room, he closes his eyes again to let Cas do his thing. Whenever there was an opportunity to interact with the pup, Cas took it. Touching his stomach, kissing, and talking to it. He would normally sit up to watch that dewy eyed expression cross Cas’s face, but that would require too much effort at the moment. And besides, with the way Cas is touching him now- almost like a massage- closing his eyes and letting his mind wonder was all too easy.

 

The baby kicks every once in a while, making him smile, but he’s thinking back to last night. Because holy _shit_ they had finally done it. After all the angst and fear and all his stupid insecurities, Dean had finally let the Alpha knot him again. Willingly. An _Alpha._ It had been a long time coming, but he could still remember the day after the first time so fucking vividly. More than the sex, actually, which was still a bit hazy.

 

It was like a nightmare. Or worse- waking up and _knowing_ that you’d just become something different. Something you’d been dreading for the majority of your life. But unlike in a nightmare, you couldn’t change what had been done. He’d felt numb at first, until the hatred had bubbled up red hot and spiky inside him. Hatred for himself first and foremost, but also for the man who had started the whole thing to begin with. They barely knew each other, but in the few hours they had, they’d managed to tear him open and leave him bleeding and broken and so _alone._

Opening his eyes and seeing Cas then was completely different to his reaction to seeing Cas right when they woke up now.

 

This morning, his automatic reaction was to pull Cas closer.

 

As close as they’d been last night; every inch connected, heartbeats and breaths synchronized, surrounded by their combined scent and their pup sandwiched in between them. It had taken about forty minutes for Cas’s knot to go down and slip out from between his legs, but in that time, Cas had cradled him close, unwilling to let Dean move even an inch away even though the thought of escape had never crossed Dean’s mind.

 

He’d been so blissed out and weirdly _relieved,_ he’d only clutched Cas tighter and closed his eyes in contentment. Even with the warm, sporadic feeling of Cas’s knot still twitching inside him. Which says a lot about the way he’d been feeling. Or the way Cas had the power to make him feel now.

 

Right after Cas had come and the dust had settled a little, he was _comfortable._ With Cas, with his body, with the whole fucking situation for once. Even though his mind still struggled with the concept of _getting fucked_ instead of _doing_ the fucking, he didn’t feel any different. Not then, and not now. Not like before when the thought of being gay or doing something omega related made him want to pass out in a drunk’in stupor.

 

It was different. Even during the heat of the moment- with Dean moaning like a cheap whore on Cas’s cock- he’d felt…wanted? Desirable? Something like that. Cas kept shooting him these wide-eyed looks, kept whispering praise and sweet nothings, and the way Cas had touched him….thinking about it made his throat feel tight and his eyes feel heavy with some kind of emotion.

 

It was hard to hate yourself when someone treated you like the best thing in the entire world.

 

How could he possibly be afraid of Cas now?

 

“…Dean. Dean? Are you listening to me?”

 

Opening his eyes and blinking sluggishly, he lifts his head to look down at Cas who’s looking at him expectantly.

 

“Hmmm?””

 

“That’s what I thought,” Cas rolls his eyes, smiling a little as he shakes his head at Dean. “I was just _saying_ , that we should get going. We still need to shower and your brother is expecting us shortly.”

 

But Cas is still naked. Cas is still naked and _very_ distracting.

 

“Sam is coming back in a few weeks. And you’re telling _me_ ,” Dean says coyly, sliding his arms around Cas’s neck, “that you’d rather spend the rest of the day with my dorky little brother instead of in bed with me?”

 

Cas’s eyes widen at Dean’s suggestive tone, and lust clouds his eyes and scent for a few seconds before he shakes his head and pulls away with a tiny, knowing smile. Situating himself so that he’s sitting next to Dean’s legs instead of hovering over him, Cas ignores the pout he’s unable to resist. That is until Cas’s hand is snaking under the blanket. He’s too surprised to react as Cas’s hand slides under and in between his legs, but when his thumb prods gently at his entrance, he automatically flinches away with a quiet hiss.

 

_Fuck,_ that was tender!

 

He hadn’t realized how sore he was until this moment, but obviously Cas had. Rubbing his hole gently with his thumb, spreading slick around it until Dean relaxes and no longer aches, Dean moans low in his throat when just the tip of it presses inside him.

 

“If I could, I’d spend the rest of my life in bed with you, Dean,” Cas murmurs roughly. “I’d never let you leave. I’ll never get enough of you.”

 

“Cas,” Dean pants, struggling and frozen where he is as Cas circles his opening in tight little circles. “What are you - ”

 

“Do you want to come, Dean? Would you like for me to get you off with my fingers? We don’t have time and you will be too sore for anything more. But I think I could do this fairly quick. Is that what you want?” Cas purrs, slipping the tip of his finger inside him again. He tucks down to kiss Dean’s stomach, but the look he aims down at Dean is purely predatory.

 

This is what he’d been thinking about. How Cas just flipped a fucking switch and made Dean forget his name. What that says about himself- getting ridiculously turned on by the command and force behind Cas’s voice- he’s not too willing to find out or explore.

 

“Yeah,” he says breathily, letting his head flop back. “Do it.”

 

Immediately, a single finger pushes inside him slowly, and Dean clenches his eyes shut at the ache. Gritting his teeth as his legs spread automatically. It’s not painful exactly, but it’s not the quick zing of pleasure it would normally be. It kind of felt like a deep tissue massage when you were really sore, pressing in to the places he ached and making them feel better. Sighing as Cas adds another finger, he moves his hips minutely back and forth, helping the process along when Cas starts to scissor him open.

 

And god, if he felt this good right now, he couldn’t imagine the delicious ache Cas’s knot would cause. Why he’d been so scared of that thing, he can’t imagine now. It had somehow hit every spot inside him, lighting him up from the inside out. Fuck Sam and everything else. He might be addicted to Cas.

 

It’s gentle and slow, Cas trying hard to rub that spot inside Dean that would make him turn to jelly. But that only makes it feel better. He can feel Cas’s unwavering eyes on his face, leaning closer when Dean moans, staring at him with rapt attention when Dean bucks as his prostate is brushed.

 

He’s still wet and loose from last night, still a little sore and tired- but Cas makes him forget all that shit. Massaging his prostate now, Cas proves himself right. It can’t have been more than a few minutes, but here he is, biting back his groan as he comes untouched on Cas’s fingers, cock spurting against his stomach, tightening his thighs around Cas’s hand and clenching and unclenching his ass around it.

 

“Now,” Cas husks, raising his eyebrows down at Dean. “It’s time to get going. Up. Now. Shower.”

 

“Holy fuck,” Dean exhales, out of breath and incredulous. And a little miffed that Cas is so articulate after having just blown his mind. “You’re so fucking _Alpha_ sometimes.”

 

“Is that a compliment or an insult?” Cas asks, removing his hand and starting to edge out of bed.

 

“Both,” he huffs, throwing his arms over his head and groaning. “Now I _really_ don’t wanna get out of bed. I can’t feel my legs, dude.”

 

When Cas just smirks down at him, proud of himself before he turns around, Dean rolls his eyes and finally attempts to move. Only when he tries to sit up, he can’t. Stomach completely in the way and throwing him off balance, he grunts as he puts more _umph_ into it. Only to end up sprawled on his back and flailing awkwardly, he feels his cheeks burn when tries and fails two more times to sit up before giving up.

 

“Dean, stop,” Cas rushes over to him when he notices Dean struggling. Wrapping his arm underneath Dean’s back and gently pulling him upright. “You’ll hurt yourself. Roll onto your side and lift yourself with your arms next time, or wait for me to help you up.”

 

“Wait for you to- Jesus Christ,” he splutters, getting to his feet. “You want me to wait for you to wipe my ass next time, too?”

 

“Dean, you could hurt yourself,” Cas admonishes, stepping closer to grab both of Dean’s hands, ducking to catch Dean’s eyes. “The next couple of months are going to be a difficult adjustment period. Never be embarrassed about asking for help.”

 

“I _am_ embarrassed,” he grumbles. He couldn’t even see his own dick! His stomach was too round now, the pup growing so fast it was hard to keep track of.

 

“Don’t be,” Cas says simply, leaning forward to kiss his forehead. “You’re carrying a human being. That’s the most difficult task a person can undertake, and you look stunning while doing it. “

 

Dean snorts loudly, but lets Cas drag him along to the bathroom.

 

“Stunning is _not_ a word I would use to describe myself right now.”

 

“And that is why you have me.”

 

 

 

 

 

They really had wasted a lot of their time in bed earlier, so their shower was perfunctory and brief. He’d already gotten so used to sharing a shower with Cas that he hardly gave it a second thought when Cas washed his back and scrubbed shampoo into his hair, or when Dean reached over to swipe a few stray suds away from Cas’s eyes. They still touched each other a lot, still kissed a little, but they still managed to be quick.

 

Well….quick for them.

 

Still dripping wet with a towel slung haphazardly around his waist, he turns his back to Cas as he gathers his clothes to change into. Cas had fallen into the pattern of leaving a few things at Dean’s apartment just in case, so he knew Cas was probably changing too. It’s not that he was opposed to letting Cas borrow his clothes or anything, but he was mostly sure he’d stretched out every single thing he’d ever owned to the point that it’d probably look ridiculous hanging off of Cas. His self-esteem could not take another hit like that.

 

Stooping to quickly step into his boxers and jeans, he’s hoping to do this as fast as possible so that Cas wouldn’t notice how tight a fit his pants are. Tugging them harshly up his hips, working them side to side as he fights his zipper, he grunts with exertion as it refuses to budge. They’re stuck against his thighs, way too fucking snug to be comfortable, but this has to work. Glancing quickly over his shoulder to make sure Cas is preoccupied, he sucks it in as much as he can, bending forward a little to shimmy his jeans _just right-_

 

_Rip._

 

“Fuck,” he hisses, letting go of the front of his pants to grab frantically at where he’d felt and heard the material give in the back. His zipper is done for too. When he sees Cas about to turn towards him out of the corner of his eye he panics and yells, “Don’t! Just- don’t look!”

 

He can feel every part of him heat up with embarrassment as Cas ignores him, coming over to him wearing that concerned, worried look on his face that makes him burn even brighter. He’d definitely jinxed himself thinking he couldn’t handle another hit to his self-esteem. Fuck, this was so much worse than he’d pictured though.

 

“Dean, what was that? Are you alright?” he asks, hands going to Dean’s still bare lower back. But he flinches away, taking a step forward without letting go of the huge hole down the seam over his ass.

 

“Shit! _Fuck-_ that was my last pair,” he groans, waddling away from Cas as much as possible before Cas stops him with an arm around his waist.

 

“Dean,” Cas says insistently, turning him around.

 

“No- don’t!” Dean tries to turn away, but he’s trapped.

 

Gently turning Dean to face him, he finally sees the busted zipper hanging open in the front, the taps open wide and framing his huge belly. Dean’s still holding the _back,_ so Cas is only seeing half of the ridiculous damage. Motherfucker. This had happened to every pair of his jeans thus far. There was a pile of ripped and busted jeans in his closet, a sad remnant of what he used to look like. Even his fat pants had bitten the dust. Only he’d been alone and been able to hide the evidence before Cas noticed. Judging by the way Cas is looking at him, it doesn’t look like he’ll be able to sweep this one under the rug again.

 

The thing is, he didn’t want to lose this part of his life. The way he looked, the way he dressed. He’d seen the way pregnant woman dressed. In loose fitting, belly “flattering”, sissy and soft clothes. Clothes that screamed, “Look at me! I’m pregnant, and couldn’t be smugger!”

 

“Dean,” Cas says a hell of a lot softer, “why didn’t you…” he trails off. He’s looking Dean up and down, probably taking in his round stomach, wide eyes, and red cheeks. He looks like he wants to say something- his eyes squinting in that way that’s all too familiar- but he closes mouth, seeming to have come to a decision.

 

“Why don’t you put on some sweatpants? I’m sure Sam and Jessica won’t notice. And you will be infinitely more comfortable that way,” Cas says quietly, a weird look crossing his face before he’s stepping forward to hug him- pressing in close and scenting him for a second before he’s turning again, resuming dressing like nothing had happened.

 

Blinking in complete shock for a minute, he’s completely frozen at the lack of reaction from Cas. The fuck?

 

Watching as Cas slips a shirt over his head and then shrugs on a jacket, he doesn’t realize he’s breathing a sigh of relief until he hears his pants rip even more.

 

Spurred into action now, motivated to forget this whole embarrassing situation and get on with it, he gratefully struggles out of his jeans again. Throwing them in the general direction of his closet with all it’s fallen brethren, he only spares Cas one more suspicious look before gratefully stepping into his favorite pair of sweatpants. They’re black and soft and they don’t cut into his hips and stomach like jeans do. Used to. He’ll have to find new ones now, he thinks with a sigh, throwing on a hoodie quickly and pulling it down as low as it can go. Even his hoodies were becoming a struggle to put on.

 

Turning around now to see Cas staring at him, that calculating look still on his face, he blinks when he notices that Dean is dressed and looking at him expectantly.

 

“Ready?” he asks, and to his surprise, offers Dean his hand.

 

Nodding and slowly walking over to take Cas’s hand cautiously in his own, he feels like he’s missing something. Not freaking out and coddling Dean was always a good thing, but this was _Cas._ He almost had a heart attack when Dean tripped last week. He’d only stumbled a little, throwing out his hands to balance himself just in case, but Cas had swooped in like Dean was about to tumble off of a cliff- grabbing him around the waist and tripping over his words as he rambled on about being more careful.

 

Not that he thought that his stupid pants splitting as that big of a deal, it was just weird that Cas hadn’t thrown a hissy fit like he normally would. The man was completely over protective and over bearing at times, more stressed about keeping him and the pup safe than he was most of the time.

 

Cas is smiling at him, grabbing his wallet and keys before leading Dean to the door, but he can’t help but think Cas’s head is miles away, distant and calculating. The whole ride to the restaurant, Cas is smiling. Keeping Dean’s hand as classical music fills the car with it’s soft tinkling, the music only serves to ease his racing mind slightly before they’re pulling into a spot right in front of the entrance.

 

Dean had been here a million times when he was craving a good, greasy breakfast, but he hadn’t been here since finding out about the pregnancy. This wasn’t like going to Gabriel’s restaurant which was a half an hour away. This was a ten minute drive, and people were bound to recognize him. Whenever he made an appearance in public now it was closer to Cas’s place then his, and he’d been lucky.

 

But Cas is already getting out of the car, closing the door and waiting for Dean in front of it expectantly.

 

It’s not like it really matters- there’s nothing he can do about it now with how big he is- but he still feels a little nervous walking up the three little steps and through the door Cas holds open for him. It’s a small place, just a mom n’ pop joint really, so it’s not that hard to spot a very familiar mop head sitting with a head of blonde curls.

 

Breathing a sigh of relief that vaguely smells like vanilla and coffee, he focuses on those two heads instead of the multiple pairs of eyes he can feel turned towards him. There’s people in basically all of the seats, there’s even people milling about around the tables; chatting and talking amicably with the patrons. Sam and Jess are towards the back, tucked in a corner, so he ducks his head and starts forward with Cas following close behind him.

 

Their way is blocked after a few steps though, by a big burly man leaning over one of the tables, talking loudly with a bunch of dudes wearing jerseys. There’s a small gap between this dude’s butt and the next table- probably too small for him- but he just wants to sit down.

 

Stepping behind the guy, definitely underestimating how much space his belly takes up- his chronic bad luck that kicks in _again_ , and has the guy shifting his weight at that exact moment and leaning back into Dean.

 

Dean automatically murmurs a soft, “woah,” to let the guy know he’s there, cradling his stomach instinctively, he almost loses his balance with one of his feet still mid-step until Cas’s hands are steadying him- but the dude turns to glare when a warning growl comes from directly behind him. He can feel Cas’s breath on his neck, looming over him, possessive hands gripping Dean’s hips.

 

“Hey watch where you’re-,” the guy starts to spit at Cas, but stops mid-sentence when his eyes fall on Dean. He backtracks, hands held up in front of him, looking genuinely apologetic now and looking between Dean and Cas. “Oh shit- I am so sorry.”

 

The guy doesn’t give them a chance to respond, just turns around and steps right up to the table to give them room to pass. Blinking in surprise and cheeks turning red at the attention he and Cas are now getting, he scrambles to grab as Cas’s arm to drag him along to their table. He swears he heard someone whisper, “ _bitch”_ as he passes, but he’s too distracted by Cas to care. He’s still glaring at the man, and Dean can smell the hostility and _protective Alpha_ coming off him thick and strong.

 

Cas is reluctant the whole way to Sam and Jess, oblivious to the looks they’re receiving, and oblivious to all the people still moving around them. When Dean finally sits with a huff in their booth, tugging forcefully on Cas’s wrist to make him sit too, he finally lifts his eyes enough to glance at the looks on Sam and Jess’s faces.

 

Jess is looking between the two of them with obvious amusement, smiling slightly with sparkling, mischievous eyes, but it’s Sam’s face that makes him forget his embarrassment for a second. Sam is shooting Cas an almost _approving_ look; a tiny, smug quirk of his lips like whatever just happened had pleased him.

 

It’s still way too fucking early to dissect what that could possibly mean though, so he shrugs it off and turns toward the still struggling Alpha. Cas is coiled tight, his fingers clenched and the scent of anger still setting the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. It makes him a little nervous to feel Cas so edgy, so it’s perfectly justifiable to want to calm Cas down. For his own sake. Not cuz’ he wants to make Cas feel better or anything.

 

“Hey,” he says softly. Grabbing Cas’s hand from under the table so that Sam and Jess won’t be able to see, he laces their fingers and rubs small circles with his thumb into Cas’s knuckles. “Over here, tough guy.”

 

Cas has been staring daggers at that man the entire time they’ve been sitting, but he squints his eyes at Dean’s voice, so he knows Cas heard him.

 

Sam and Jess watch them cautiously, Jess pretending and failing, to look occupied by the menus sitting in front of them all. Sam doesn’t even pretend like he’s not actively listening.

 

“Cas,” he sighs. Getting the weird urge to lean forward to kiss the frown off of Cas’s face, but his brother’s presence is a grounding reminder that they are currently in public.

 

So he squeezes Cas’s hand. “C’mon man, it was an accident.”

 

“I know that,” Cas says briskly, his mouth barely opening, eyes still refusing to meet Dean’s.

 

Dean’s eyebrows shoot up in confusion and he says, “Then why are you acting crazy? Me and the pup are fine, so will you friggin’ look at me?”

 

Cas’s head turns sharply at his words, and Dean is met with fucking desperate eyes; bright blue and wide, looking at him pleadingly.

 

“I can’t stop,” Cas rasps so low he can see Sam trying to lean forward to eavesdrop. “I want to punish that man for touching you and our pup. My need to protect you, it’s-it’s overwhelming. I just _need_ to make sure you both are alright, I-“

 

Cas almost looks scared now, and Dean isn’t sure which scent is worse.

 

Biting his lip and scooting closer so that their sides are touching and he can feel Cas’s heat, he only spares Sam and Jess one cautious look before going for it. He’s gonna try and comfort Cas with his own scent like Cas does for him. He wishes they were in private so he could curl himself around Cas, make it so the rest of the world doesn’t exist, but he’s gotta work with what he’s got.

 

Carefully leaning against Cas in the booth, too close for public really, he gets up in Cas’s face until there’s only a couple of inches between them and the ridiculous urge to kiss him strikes again. Cas’s eyes are wide and searching, and when he noticeably gets a hit of Dean’s scent, the corner of his lips quirk up just a tiny bit.

 

“We’re good. You don’t need to protect us any more,” Dean says, deliberately applying more pressure to Cas’s hand. “Stop being an asshole so we can enjoy some breakfast, hmm? I’m just hungry enough that Sammy over there is starting to look pretty appetizing.”

 

The hardness of Cas’s face finally breaks as he rolls his eyes’ the tension noticeably dissipating when he hears Jess giggle.

 

“Apologies,” Cas says more seriously, looking over at Jess like he’s just noticed they’re there. “Although you reminded me of a point I have been meaning to bring up.”

 

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

 

“Since pups start hearing sound at around 18 weeks, I’m fairly positive ours is listening to you speak at all times. Although it won’t be able to compute what it is that is being said,” Cas smirks, “I thought it might do well to stop cursing in front of it.”

 

“In front- what?!” Dean splutters incredulously. “Dude- I’m _always_ in front of it, and _fuck_ is practically my favorite word!”

 

Jess laughs, but Sam just shakes his head. “He’s right, Dean. Your pup is already kicking you when you swear, what do you think it’s trying to tell you?”

 

“Maybe it’s agreeing with me,” Dean reasons. “Maybe it’s saying ‘yeah, fuck you Uncle Sam!’”

 

“Dean,” Cas chuckles, way calmer now than he was before, leaning back into Dean. “I’d rather not have our child’s first word being fuck, shit, or bitch.”

 

“Why not? Any pup can babble ‘mama’ or ‘dada,’ imagine our pup beating all the other pups at their own baby game!”

 

“No, Dean,” Jess laughs, “Just _no!”_

“You guys all suck,” Dean pouts. “You’re not the ones having to give up half their vocabulary.”

 

“I will also try to abstain from cursing,” Cas volunteers, but Dean just rolls his eyes.

 

“Big fucking deal. I could probably count the number of times I’ve heard you cuss on both hands, maybe one,” he challenges.

 

“That is not true, you ass - ” Dean smirks and Cas’s eyes widen when Cas takes the bait, “butt. Assbutt.”

 

“Assbutt?” Dean repeats in amused incredulity.

 

“Oh my god,” Sam blurts, before face palming and laughing so hard his shoulders shake.

 

Jess makes a snorting sound behind her hand, but can’t hold it in any longer after Sam breaks. They’re both cracking up now, making their table loud and probably obnoxious, but he doesn’t care.

 

“Asssbutt?” he mouths again to Cas questioningly. Cas just shrugs, giving him an innocent look that clearly says, ‘I don’t even know, it just happened.”

 

Smiling at Cas reassuringly and looking around the table at Sam and Jess who are still clutching each other and trying to breath through their laughs, Dean decides that maybe he could live with cutting down his swearing quota. With three of his favorite people surrounding him with their infectious happiness, anything sounded fucking possible.

 

 

 

After Cas’s scent returns to normal, and his little temper tantrum is forgotten, the rest of the day goes a lot smoother. They end up sitting in their booth for a few hours instead of relocating, and in that time span Jess manages to ask him about a million and one questions about the pup. From the time they found out they were expecting until now, and then the future. They even toyed with a few names, Sam and Jess both hedging bets on what the sex would be(Sam thought it would be a boy, Jess thought it would be a girl.)

 

They get so caught up in talking about the pup, Sam and Cas just as equally invested in the conversation, they don’t even think twice about ordering lunch and letting the hours just fly by.

 

Sam had told him they wanted pups eventually- Jess pressing that point- but were waiting until they both had stable jobs and a steady income before trying. They were not just gonna wing it like him and Cas, were not going to have an accidental pregnancy throw their lives into chaos, but from the way they were talking now, it seemed like they would be trying sooner rather than later. So enamored with Dean’s every fucking move that by the time their visit was finally coming to an end, they’d managed to make Dean promise they’d skype them at least once or twice a week.

 

Sam and Jess were already like the doting grandparents this pup would never have, so seeing them climb out of their rental car and head for the trunk was a depressing sight.

 

It was fucking freezing and still drizzling to boot, but he still insists on getting out of the car when Cas goes to help them with their luggage.

 

Standing there against Cas’s car, arms wrapped around himself and shivering, he watches Cas and Sam step closer to each other , lips moving in a conversation way too quiet and far away to hear. Cas has got his serious face on, eyes squinted and mouth a straight line, but Sam is smiling a little so he’s not too worried.

 

He is damn curious though. Just as he takes a step forward to butt in he realizes that Jess is coming towards him with arms held aloft. Opening his arms instinctively, he gathers her into the circle of his arms and greedily clings to her heat. She’s friggin’ tiny in his arms, squished up against his huge belly, and as she takes a huge, shutter breath, he gets the feeling that she needs the comfort he offers her right now.

 

“I know what Sam said to you,” she murmurs quietly.

 

Of fuck, he almost forgot about that. Forgot that Jess had been mad at his brother too.

 

“I heard. Don’t worry about it,” he mumbles self-consciously. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

 

“It does matter,” Jess pulls away slightly so that she can meet his eyes. “It matters more than ever, Dean. You know I love Sam more than anything, but I’ve never been more disappointed with him. I know he apologized to you, but I just wanted to do it again.”

 

Taking his face in her hands, she looks up at him with watery eyes. “I’m so sorry, Dean. Not just for what Sam said, for everything. You don’t deserve any of the bullshit that’s been thrown at you. Omega to Omega, I still can’t imagine what you’ve been through. Just know…” she pauses when his breath hitches a little, patting his face gently before continuing, “Just know that you will always have people who love you just the way you are. Me and Sam, and now Cas and your little pup.”

 

He doesn’t argue that Cas can’t possibly love someone like him, doesn’t argue that his family has a record of leaving him. The only thing he manages to choke is something that’s been weighing heavily on his mind for a long time.

 

“What if I mess it up?”

 

“Mess what up?”

 

“The pup, Jess!” he whispers, eyes flashing to Cas who is now watching him from behind the car. “What if I fuck up my kid just like my dad?”

 

Jess’s eyes darken a little before she’s pulling him close again- rubbing the back of his neck as he closes his eyes. “You won’t mess up your baby, Dean. You love it too much. You’re not your father, and you won’t make his same mistakes.”

 

Breathing a sigh of relief at someone saying those words besides himself, he manages to chuckle a little. “That sounds vaguely like lord of the rings, lady Arwin.”

 

“Seriously, Dean? I thought we were having a moment,” she sighs, but he can hear the smile in her voice.

 

“Dean? Are you alright?” he can hear Cas’s voice right behind them.

 

Pulling away from their embrace, Jess moves to hug Cas next, only his is a lot shorter. The sight of them hugging- despite Cas looking awkward as hell- makes him smile.

 

“Fine. Just don’t like goodbyes is all,” he answers gruffly, crossing his arms again against the cold.

 

“We’ll be back in a month, Dean,” Sam reassures him, setting down the bag he’d slung over his shoulder so that he can hug Dean too. He doesn’t unwrap his arms from around himself, too cold now to really move, but he doesn’t step away from his brother either. So he’s participating.

 

“We need to go, babe,” Sam says to Jess, stepping away from Dean again. “Besides, Dean needs to get inside. He shouldn’t be outside for much longer.”

 

“Oh shut it,” Dean chatters. “Don’t worry about me.”

 

“I think Cas worries enough for all four of us,” Sam smirks, nodding over Dean’s shoulder. Sam’s right. Cas is stating holes into Dean’s back, shifting from foot to foot in impatience, door open, just waiting to get Dean back into the warm car.

 

Rolling his eyes, Dean opens his door.

 

“Bye guys,” he says, waving and carefully maneuvering himself into his seat. “You better get me something awesome for Christmas or else I’ll sick Cas on you.”

 

Jess smiles and waves at him where Sam just shakes his head. “Just close your door before you give Cas a heart attack.”

 

Which Dean very maturely responds to by sticking his tongue out, causing both Sam and Jess to laugh before they head for the automatic doors of the airport.

 

Closing the door and huddling down as warmth and Cas’s scent surrounds him immediately, he waits until he can no longer see them, counting down the seconds before he pounces.

 

Surprising the shit out of Cas, he leans over the center console to grab Cas’s hair. Tilting his head and attacking Cas’s lips with his own, he waits a few seconds for Cas to get with the picture before gently easing his tongue against Cas’s; relishing in the tiny moan Cas lets out when Dean relents and lets Cas dominate the kiss. Cradling Dean’s face in his palms like Dean’s fucking delicate.

 

Nibbling on Cas’s lower lip and breaking away, he pecks Cas once on his nose before slouching back in his seat, ignoring the now even more surprised look on Cas’s face.

 

“Wanted to do that all day,” he sighs, closing his eyes and leaning back. “Now I’m gonna sleep.”

 

“Seatbelt, Dean.”

 

“…… _now_ I’m gonna sleep.”

 

He has no doubt that he’ll be able to, but when Cas shuffles around a little before draping his trench coat over him, it’s the final nails in his coffin. Smiling to himself, he drifts off to the sound of Cas’s breathing and classical music.

 

 

 

When Cas wakes him, he’s momentarily confused as to where the fuck they are.

 

Sitting up and looking out the dash, he knows they are _not_ at his apartment or even at Cas’s house. There are cars all around him, and it looks like they are in front of some kind of store.

 

Cas has a hard look on his face, not really looking at Dean, so instead of asking him where they are, he leans forward to see the name on the building in front of him.

 

“ _No,”_ he says vehemently, narrowing his eyes and sitting back in disgust. “No, Cas. You’re deluding yourself if you think I’m going in there.”

 

He knew Cas’s reaction early today had been too good to be true. He should have known better.

 

“Dean,” Cas sighs in exasperation. “You cannot continue like this. The pup is growing too fast for you to ignore the problem any longer.”

 

“I don’t have a problem!”

 

“I was there, Dean. And I heard you say those were your last pair. Why did you wait so long to say something?”

 

“I _didn’t_ say anything!” he insists, glaring at Cas now. “And I didn’t say anything because I knew you’d overreact!”

 

“How is this overreacting? You need new clothes, so we are getting you new clothes. I don’t see how this is a big deal,” Cas says simply. And if it wasn’t for the worry coming off of his scent, Dean might have actually fallen for his nonchalance.

 

“You don’t see how this is a big- are you fucking kidding, Cas,” he says, anger and fear making his words sharp. “We both know these stupid Mat/Pat places are for omegas who actually want to _look_ pregnant and huge. That’s not me. I would look freak’in ridiculous, and I’m not doing it.”

 

Silence. He can feel Cas’s eyes on him, but Dean knows if he sees Cas’s face right now he’d probably feel guilty to yelling at him.

 

“Dean,” Cas says softly, reaching over to touch Dean’s cheek. He doesn’t try to turn Dean’s face towards him, only stokes it gently with his fingers. “The point of Maternity/Paternity wear is not to embarrass you. And that is not the reason I brought you here. I want you to be as comfortable as possible, beautiful. That’s all.”

 

Clenching his eyes closed and reluctantly leaning into Cas’s touch, he still doesn’t feel like he can do this. Even with Cas’s words churning up butterflies in his stomach.

 

It’s quiet too long, his shoulders too tense with the fight he still yearns to put up, and he can tell Cas reads all of this.

 

“What’s the harm in trying, Dean?” Cas murmurs, leaning towards him so that his words tickle Dean’s ear a little. “If you don’t like anything we can try again somewhere else. But in order for you not to like something, you’ll have to go inside and see for yourself.”

 

“I don’t want to see for myself.”

 

“Please, Dean?”

 

“No. I don’t think so.”

 

“Dean. Do you honestly believe trying to fit into clothes that don’t fit you is good for you _or_ the pup? Something has got to give, you and don’t have any jeans left.”

 

Snorting as Cas’s lame attempt at a joke, he finally turns to look at Cas. He’s got that stupid look on his face again, the face that makes Dean feel like he could do no wrong. That stupid face Dean kinda sorta likes a lot.

 

Biting his lip and looking Cas up and down, he thinks about this morning and sighs. He’s gotta do it. If even to just say he did, and get it over with.

 

“Fine.”

 

Cas’s smile is gummy and huge before he’s leaning forward to kiss him. It’s a soft brush of lips, but it still makes Dean feel a little better.

 

Cas smells like happiness and relief, and Dean clings to it as Cas leads him into the store. Fucking _Birth & Beyond. _This place was a fucking joke.

 

Taking Dean’s hand right when they walk in is probably a good idea on Cas’s behalf. Because he’d like nothing more than to turn his ass right back around and book it. But the steady pressure and gentle squeeze Cas provides him with reminds him that he’s got to at least try. For the pup and for Cas.

 

“Come on, Dean,” Cas smiles at Dean’s pained look, all but dragging him the rest of the way inside.

 

It’s brightly lit, the light shining down on purple walls and black and silver displays. There’s all kinds of clothes filling up the decent sized store, but from what he can see they’re all women’s clothing.

 

He’s about to smile smugly at Cas when a sale’s representative spots them over one of the clothing racks. She’s obviously standing on her tip toes, so she’s probably tiny.

 

“Hi guys! I’ll be with you in just a second!”

 

He looks over at Cas, but Cas just shrugs and looks expectantly in her direction. Guess he still wanted to ask her something.

 

There’s the sound of hangers sliding over the rack nearest to them, and then the girl is stepping out from around it.

 

“Ok. Sorry about that- how can I help you- oh,” she smiles when she can see Dean’s belly. “Daddies to be, huh?”

 

Dean’s cheeks flush a little, but Cas fucking smiles. “Yes. We were hoping to find pants that fit him better. Is there any selection for male Omegas?”

 

“Oh of course! There isn’t a whole ton of variety, mind you, but I think it’ll get the job done! This is so exciting,” she gushes. “In the three years I’ve worked here, you’re the first male Omega I’ve seen. And can I just say- you look great!”

 

“Uhh thanks?” he says awkwardly, rubbing at the back of his neck with the hand that Cas is not holding. How the fuck is that even possible? How can there be so few like him? Was there even one other male omega in this city, or was he the only one?

 

“Alrighty then, right this way!”

 

She leads them towards the back of the store, through racks and racks filled with colorful dresses and skirts and shoes. He tries not to really look at any of it. If he looks too closely, he’ll start to imagine himself wearing something like it, and he would rather not throw up two days in a row, thank you very much. When they get to the back wall, the clothes noticeably more muted and simplistic, they stop.

 

“Here we are. I’ll leave you two alone to look through it all. Let me know if you want to try anything on, I’ll be at the register if you need me!”

 

And then she’s flitting away, leaving both he and Cas to stare stupidly up and down at the clothes in front of them.

 

At least these look a lot less fruity than he’d pictured.

 

He gravitates towards the jean material he can see on the top shelf right in front of him. Cas is silent at his shoulder, watching him as he reaches for a pair and unfolds it to hold them up.

 

“What the crap is this?” he asks in confusion when he notices the black, shiny looking material connected to the top of the pants. He holds them out for Cas to inspect. “Is this supposed to be like built in underwear?”

 

Cas looks a little confused himself, but unlike Dean, searches for the tags to gain more insight. “I think that they are- yes. It shows a picture right here. These are called full panel. The material is supposed to be stretchy to accommodate growth and should cover most if not all of your belly, Dean.”

 

“Oh.”

 

They’re not horrible looking. And with his shirts and jackets, the black part probably wouldn’t even show.

 

“Why don’t you grab a few different kinds? Try them on, see what you like?” Cas suggests hopefully, rubbing a hand up and down Dean’s lower back.

 

“I guess,” he says uncertainly, reaching for another pair. This one is labeled as the demi panel. None of the other things hanging up on the walls looked too different from the clothes he usually wore. Except for a lot of extra material, stretchy sections that let out round his middle and sides, and a few missing zippers and buttons, the clothes were basically regular clothes.

 

With Cas’s careful input, and almost an hour of Dean struggling in and out of clothes in the fucking tiny changing room, they manage to find two bags worth of stuff. He ends up with about five pairs of pants, three shirts, two jackets and a sweater Cas insists on. Over all not a bad haul.

 

But since he’d been so adamant about not liking anything, basically throwing a fit when he’d realized where Cas had taken him, it was pretty silent on their trip back to Dean’s apartment. It’s not like Cas was acting smug or anything- of course not- but Dean was a little embarrassed. Especially since he couldn’t resist wearing one of the jackets out of the store after he’d paid for it, the blue material soft and warm against his skin, rolled up over his fingers to prevent air from getting in.

 

It’s when the song changes, the wordless music blending into a new beat with violins and piano, that he says something. He recognizes the song because Cas has been playing this CD over and over again, but he’s never asked why.

 

“Hey Cas?”

 

“Yes, Dean?”

 

“Why do we listen to the same CD on repeat? It’s not that I don’t appreciate this kind of music or anything, but don’t you like anything else?”

 

They pass under a street light, briefly illuminating Cas’s face enough so that Dean catches his smile.

 

“What?” Dean asks in amusement.

 

“This might sound a little silly,” Cas starts, but he’s still smiling. “There’s been no definitive studies that support as much…but there’s no harm in trying. Some suggest that parents play classical music while their babies are in the womb. To soothe and comfort them.”

 

He blinks stupidly. He can feel his stupid fucking heart melting.

 

Fuck he might love this man.

 

_Fuck._

 

First the sex and fucking _feelings_ , and now honest to god  _feelings._

 

And the thing is- he wants to freak out, to fight them, to deny them- but looking over at the still smiling Alpha next to him, reaching over to grab one of his hands to intertwine their fingers between them, he has the feeling that everything is okay.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love you guys.


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I decided to say fuck school this week and actually write. Not to mention I met and hugged Misha Collins, Ruth, and Rob. It was a good week. Now I'm about to ruin yours.
> 
> I should probably apologize in advance. I am sorry for this chapter. Nothing too bad. Just a lot of feels.

 

Goddammit this thing was itchy.

 

After about four days of these stupid pants he still wasn’t used to it. No matter how many times Cas reprimanded him for scratching, he couldn’t resist.

 

Rubbing irritably at the top of his stomach where the band met skin, his hand twitches with the need to use his nails. His stretch marks weren’t helping either.

 

He still had four hours to go before he could break free from his stretchy prison.

 

Rolling his eyes at how much of a drama queen he’d become, he shifts a few spare parts away from the one he actually needs underneath them. The car had been crushed, it’s back end taking the brunt of the impact, so he had a hellova job ahead of him. Honestly the cost to fix it would be more than scrapping it and buying a new car, but when Bobby had tried to tell the owner that, they’d out right refused. Sentimental reasons. He could respect that.

 

But now he’s tasked with fixing this hunk of junk.

 

While most the parts needed to be replaced, he’d promised to salvage what he could from the original make. Which was why he was bending low to grab a relatively untouched piece. Tugging on it, surprised when it doesn’t budge, he grunts and pulls harder- the heavy weight of it suddenly in his hand- it’s too much. Too heavy.

 

Dropping the part quickly and freezing when something in his back _pulls,_ he’s stuck hunched over his stomach where he is. Teeth gritted in sharp pain when just a deep breath makes it worse, his mind blanks. What the fuck just happened.

 

Wincing as he cautiously lifts his arms back up to at least be able to lean against the car, he tries to remember who else is here and where the fuck he left his phone. He’s afraid to move more than he already has, but he can’t exactly stay here.

 

“Ash!” he finally manages to bark, proud of himself for sounding reasonably calm, “Come over here for a second!”

 

“Yo!” he hears Ash call back immediately, slow, bouncy footsteps coming closer. “What can I do for you today, amigo?”

 

His easy going smile disappears when he turns the corner and sees Dean.

 

“What’s up, man- what can I do?” he asks seriously, stepping forward so that’s hovering slightly on Dean’s right. It’s fucking weird to see Ash so serious for once, his usual mirth replaced with actual concern. And if Dean wasn’t in such pain, he’d probably be a little touched.

 

“Fuck I- I think I pulled something,” he grunts. “And I don’t remember where I left my phone.”

 

“I’ll find your phone in a minute. Right now we gotta get you off your feet,” Ash says, eyeing the car seat bench about ten feet away.

 

Dean sees it too.

 

“You can’t be serious.”

 

“As serious as the front of my mullet, buddy. It’ll take the pressure off.”

 

“And how the fuck do you think I’m getting there, smart guy?” Dean asks skeptically. “There’s no one else here and you could probably still get away with ordering a happy-meal.”

 

“I got this,” Ash says, stepping in between Dean’s locked arms and the car so that they’re face to face. Blinking in confusion and automatically flinching away from doritos breath, he regrets it instantly when his back twinges. Alright- couch- he could do this.

 

Bracing Dean’s shoulders and prompting Dean to take tiny, measured steps backwards, they make slow progress. Dean is breathing hard by the end of it, making him clench his eyes shut and jaw tight with pain, but somehow he ends up flat on his back with his head barely propped up on the armrest.

 

Ash is doubled over, hand on his knees, panting. Somewhere in between trying to catch his breath, Dean’s pretty sure he hears Ash wheeze, “ _I don’t got this.”_

 

He hates to bug the guy more, especially after pulling off such a spectacular feat, but he needs to make a call. As soon as fucking possible.

 

“Phone, Ash,” he reminds Ash hoarsely. “Might be on top of the tool box.”

 

“Right. Ok, imma find it, Dean, don’t you worry!” Ash says. There’s a scraping sound somewhere off to the left, a bang, and then a, “Got it! HELL yeah!”

 

Cold plastic is suddenly being pressed into his hand and he sighs in relief, opening his eyes to look gratefully up at Ash. “Thanks, man.”

 

“You got it,” Ash smirks, but his eyes are still tight when he turns to walk away. “Alright you make your call while I’ll call Bobby.”

 

“Wait- what?! Don’t tell Bobby, dude-“ he tries to argue but Ash is already out of sight. “Fuck,” he sighs, it was gonna be a long day.

 

Flipping open his phone, glad he’d let Cas program his speed dial for once, he presses one and waits. He doesn’t know why he’s still surprised when Cas picks up after only two rings.

 

“Hello, Dean,” comes Cas’s customary greeting- and Dean finds himself smiling at the sound of it despite the circumstances. “How are you?”

 

And instead of getting right to the heart of the matter, he finds himself asking with genuine curiosity, “How come you always answer your phone at work? Aren’t you- you know- _working?”_

He hears a soft chuckle on the other line that automatically has him relaxing and forgetting his back pain for a second. “I’ll always answer when you call, Dean… Well I will do my best. The hospital allows all employees to keep their cellphones with them when their mate is pregnant.”

 

“Ahh,” he says intelligently. So he fell under the category of Cas’s mate. That shouldn’t make his heart flutter the way it does, but he ignores it. He called for a reason.

 

Before he can decide on a way to phrase it without having Cas freak out though, Cas beats him to it.

 

“Is everything alright, Dean?”

 

“Uhhh. Yes and no,” Dean begins hesitantly, and he can hear Cas inhale sharply on the other line. “I’m fine, I just - ”

 

“What does that mean, Dean? What happened? Where are you?” Cas cuts him off, sounding mildly panicked.

 

He’s glad Cas can’t see him roll his eyes. Typical Cas.

 

“Calm the fuck down, Cas. I’m at work. And I’m not dying. I might’ve pulled something in my back though. Hurts like a bitch,” he tells Cas, hoping to at least calm him down a little.

 

“Oh Dean,” Cas sighs, worry and now stress coloring his voice. “I’m on my way. I should make it 20 minutes or less. Is there someone there with you?”

 

“Yeah, I told you about Ash, right?”

 

“The man with the mullet?”

 

“The one and only.”

 

“Have him get you some water and ice if you have any there. Are you laying down?”

 

“Mmmhmm,” he hums, closing his eyes and relaxing back now that he knows Cas is coming. “Sittin’ in the lap of luxury here.”

 

“Good,” Cas says softly. “Try to stay as still as possible. I’ll be right there.”

 

The line disconnects and he tries not to be disappointed by the loss of Cas’s voice.

 

“Hey Dean?” Ash comes back into the room looking a little guilty. “Bobby’s on his way.”

 

“Great. Just what I needed to make this day better,” he groans. And then he glares at Ash. “There any ice laying around here? Doctor’s orders.”

 

“Nahh, but I got ice _packs_ in my trunk,” Ash purses his lips and raises his eyebrows like he’s proud of himself.

 

“Why the hell do you have icepacks in your trunk, dude?” he asks incredulously,

 

“Gotta keep the buds cool for after work, man!” Ash says like it makes perfect sense.

 

“Any other day I would call you an idiot,” Dean chuckles. “But right now, I’m thinkin’ you’re a genius.”

 

The man winks at him before spinning in a surprisingly graceful turn and heads for the door.

 

Biting his lip as he waits, he squints his eyes when his stomach starts to itch again. Of course. His body was just fucking bound and determined to make him as physically uncomfortable as possible. It was a good thing Cas’s scent lingered now on all of his clothes, because otherwise he’d somehow get morning sickness just to top it all off. Fuck this pregnancy thing.

 

“You sure are a lot of trouble, huh?” he murmurs down to his bump, resting one hand on top of it while trying not to move anything else. “You gotta be a boy. Only boys can cause this much mayhem in such a short amount of time.”

 

Closing his eyes, he tries to imagine what his baby boy would look like. Would it look more like him, or like Cas? He kinda hoped he would inherit Cas’s blue eyes. They were kinda beautiful if he was honest with himself, and he could have two pairs of them looking back at him instead of one.

 

Smiling at the thought, he doesn’t realize Ash is back until a voice that is not Ash’s thunders, “Dean Winchester, you idiot! You have _got_ to be more careful, boy!”

 

Snapping his eyes open to look up at Bobby- and hey, how the fuck did he get here so fast- his first reaction is not to argue. Instead, he rolls his eyes.

 

“Bobby,” he says, unimpressed. “Can you wait like ten minutes? I’m sure Cas will be upset with me if I let someone chew me out before him.”

 

That seems to pull Bobby up short. “He commin’ then?” Bobby asks cautiously.

 

Dean nods. “Should be here in a few minutes. The dude is more stressed about this shit than I am.”

 

“I’m glad, you knucklehead,” Bobby grunts, stepping back to lean against the car, keeping his watchful gaze on Dean. “Someone oughtta care about your well-being besides me. You obviously don’t.”

 

“Ten minutes, Bobby,” he reminds him. “Ash, what about those icepacks?”

 

“Shit. My bad, ya’ll are entertaining. Here,” he hands Dean two small squares.

 

God, now he had to get them under his back.

 

Bracing one hand under him and the other on the top of the seat, he holds his breath and tries to lift himself up. Tensing up, he immediately goes back down. His whole right side is excruciating – so painful he throws his head back, panting, trying to breathe through it.

 

A hand pats his shoulder. But it hurts too bad for him to open his eyes.

 

“Where does it hurt, boy? Nod or shake your head until I get close,” Bobby says. And then he can feel the icepacks easing under his back. Way too high at first until Dean is able to shake his head. Moving down slowly, the sharp coolness finally touches the spot where the pain is radiating, making him nod quickly and press down against the little squares in relief.

 

“Thanks,” he breathes, eyes still closed.

 

“No problem, son.”

 

And then it’s still and quiet for a long time until he hears the doors being slammed against the walls.

 

Here we go.

 

“Dean?!” Cas calls, sounding out of breath.

 

His eyes snap open, but Bobby is already calling, “Over here, ya idjit.”

 

Cas rounds the corner, eyes searching frantically around the room before they land on Dean. Dean swears he can _see_ the relief in them, like he was sure Dean had been joking about the not dying part.

 

Closing the distance between them quickly, Cas is suddenly right in front of him, squatting so he’s eye level with Dean, one palm resting on Dean’s cheek. Cas’s scent makes him feel his own personal kind of relief.

 

“Hey,” Dean smiles at him, smirking a little at the worried scrunch between Cas’s eyebrows. Cas is gonna have some serious wrinkles if he keeps this up.

 

“Dean,” Cas breathes, stroking his face like Bobby isn’t right behind him. “Tell me what happened.”

 

Since he can’t _see_ Bobby behind Cas, he’s hoping Bobby can’t see him close his eyes and lean into Cas’s touch. “Not sure you knows cars, so I’ll keep it simple. I was pulling a part free from debris when it came loose. That sucker was heavy too. I was bent over, and I felt something give in my back.”

 

“About how far down your back?”

 

“Lower back.”

 

“Were you lifting with your legs, or were you lifting with your back?” Cas asks him, scanning over Dean as if he could diagnose him with just a glance.

 

Dean’s eyes widen. Whoops. “Uhh…”

 

“That explains half of it,” Cas’s eyes narrow. “You have to know how dangerous it is to be lifting heavy objects while you’re pregnant, Dean. We’ve discussed this before. And this is exactly why.”

 

“Finally,” he hears Bobby mutter under his breath.

 

“You do realize I’m a mechanic, right?” Dean asks both of them wryly.

 

“That don’t mean you gotta put yourself in harms way!” Bobby growls, and Cas finally seems to notice him. Turning to look over his shoulder, he nods at Bobby before turning back to Dean.

 

“I am inclined to agree.”

 

“Of course you are. But you are psychotically overprotective. Bobby’s just being an asshole.”

 

“Is this the way he talks to you too?” Bobby chuckles.

 

“A good majority of the time, yes,” Cas replies, fingers now weaving their way through Dean’s hair. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, by the way.”

 

“Likewise.”

 

The whole this conversation is taking place, neither of them look away from Dean. It kind of felt like when you were being scolded my your parents- then again he wouldn’t really know what that’s like. John never cared enough to lecture him when he was younger.

 

“Not like this isn’t _super_ fun or anything,” Dean inserts awkwardly. “But can we get on with this? I’m kinda stuck here.”

 

“Yes, are you ready to leave?” Cas stands immediately. “Do you need me to grab anything for you first?”

 

“Leave? Leave where?” Dean asks in confusion. “Can’t you just fix me here? Wham-bam- doctor mojo me?”

 

Cas’s face softens. “We’re going to the hospital to get you checked out, Dean. I’ve already spoken with your Obstetrician and she’s expecting us.”

 

“What?” he squawks, flailing a little before he stills when pain zaps up his spine. Cas is leaning over him again, knees resting against the bench so that he can touch both palms to Dean’s face again.

 

“Relax. From what you’ve described, I do think it’s most likely a pulled muscle. But I’d much rather be safe than sorry.”

 

“But you’re a doctor,” he pleads, stomach sinking. “Why do I have to see some random stranger?”

 

“She specializes in Omega pregnancies, Dean. She’s the best we have. And I can’t think logically whilst around you,” he admits quietly, leaning all the way down to kiss Dean’s forehead. “You deserve the very best.”

 

Sighing as Cas’s peppermint breath puffs against his face, he nods reluctantly and starts to move. Cas shakes his head down at him, the only warning he gets before Cas is positioned at his side, bending over and carefully slipping his arms under Dean.

 

“You can’t honestly believe you can pick him - ” Bobby starts to say before the words die in his mouth.

 

Dean wants to fight Cas on this, wants to insist that he can walk, but as soon as Cas lifts him his back screams in protest and he can’t remember how to work his mouth besides the pained cry that slips out. He can tell Cas is trying to be as careful as possible, cradling Dean gently against his body, but it’s not enough.

 

“It’s alright, baby. I’m sorry. We’ll be on our way shortly,” Cas whispers to him, the only thing that could possibly get him to open his eyes. “Yes, you heard that right. You don’t get exclusive rights to that term of endearment just because you’re stunningly beautiful,” Cas grunts now with a strained smile.

 

He’s obviously trying to distract Dean from the pain, smiling down at him when Dean holds his breath and turns his head into Cas’s body. Every shift of his Cas’s body hurts. Every step, every breath. Cas starts walking quickly, with Dean as heavy as he is, it can’t have been easy. Bobby is already ahead of them, waiting to open the doors.

 

“Open the backdoor,” Cas is saying to Bobby. “I’m going to lay him down.”

 

“On it.”

 

He’s placed in the back seat after a long ass struggle, Cas’s trench coat placed over him, a peck to his lips, and then Cas is behind the wheel and they’re moving. Even though it hurt, some part of his mind wishes Cas could still hold him. Either Bobby or Cas had managed to grab the icepacks before their departure, so he was cold and pretty miserable back here by himself. He wanted to cling to Cas’s heat and drown in that Alpha scent.

 

They hadn’t had sex again since thanksgiving, both of them so damn busy during the day they ended up being exhausted at night. Especially Dean. The move back to Cas’s house the other day had been a quiet affair- with Cas making sure the smell of turkey was long gone before beckoning Dean through the threshold and then to bed.

 

The problem was that by the time he was laying in Cas’s ginormous bed with Cas wrapped around him, he was too comfortable. He fell right to sleep.

 

Now it didn’t look they’d be doing it again any time soon. A few days at least.

 

That thought depresses him more than anything else.

Although he smiles and closes his eyes when Cas starts to hum along to that damn cd again. It really didn’t hurt when he wasn’t moving, so the entire ride he just pretends this is any other day; with maybe just an extra visit from Cas and a nap.

 

 

 

 

Cas gets him a damn wheelchair. Like he was _trying_ to find new and exciting ways to embarrass Dean.

 

But besides that, their little trip to Cas’s work wasn’t too bad.

 

He liked his new doctor, Anna (she was hot), and Cas had been right about his back. Just a pulled muscle. Not a good thing, but nothing to worry too much over- she had said pointedly. To Cas. Dean was condemned to bed rest of course- with the direction to switch between applying ice and heat- but it was only for a couple of days. He could handle that much, couldn’t he?

 

Cas had managed to get all of tomorrow off so they were home free. After they made a pit stop.

 

“You mind if we stop in to say hi to Charlie and Missouri?” he muses to Cas, who is still insisting on pushing the damn chair.

 

“They would love that,” Cas smiles, running a hand through Dean’s hair. “They adore you.”

 

“You think I’ll still be this popular when this kid is outta me?” he can’t help but ask quietly. He didn’t really have much friends before all this, but that might have been because he was too afraid to let people get close to him in case they figured out his secret.

 

“Of course, Dean. Do you honestly believe they would base their opinion of you solely off of your pregnancy?” Cas asks with a note of incredulity.

 

“Isn’t that what you’re doing?” he blurts without thinking, saying the words he’d been stewing over privately. But he immediately regrets his words when Cas stops them in their tracks.

 

“Dean,” he says softly, sadly, walking around so that he’s squatting in front of Dean in the middle of a hospital hallway, balancing himself on either side of Dean’s legs. “ _I_ adore you. Not because you are carrying our child or that I feel obligated to do so. I adore _you._ Everything that makes you, you. Even when you make pigheaded decisions and end up here, I adore you,” Cas smiles.

 

When Dean tries to look away, Cas catches his chin. Leaning precariously against the chair, he brushes an almost kiss against Dean’s lips until Dean opens his and closes his eyes.

 

Just their lips are touching in that moment. A soft slip and side of lips. Cas’s are a little chapped, a little dry- but they’re still the best thing he’s every felt.

 

“You know you’re ridiculous, right?” he murmurs to Cas, their lips just barely brushing. Because what else do you say to a man that just told you they adore you unconditionally? He had a feeling Cas wasn’t messing around either, which left him floundering to find the proper response. He might as well point out how ridiculous they are.

 

“Not as ridiculous as you might think,” Cas says, frowning when Dean suddenly wraps his arms around Cas’s neck. Speaking of ridiculous. “Dean - ”

 

“Come on, Cas,” Dean smirks. “Either you help me up or I’ll do it myself. I pulled a muscle. I didn’t break my legs.”

 

“You heard what Anna said, Dean,” Cas argues, not budging and sounding distinctly stressed. “You need to be resting. If you were to stand now - ”

 

“ – I’d be fine. I’m getting stiff from sitting like this anyway. So it’s your move, buddy. One way or another I’m bustin’ outta this chair,” he says firmly, tightening his hold around Cas’s neck and maintaining eye contact. He’s not going to blink first.

 

Cas isn’t interested in a stare down apparently. He’s too busy looking Dean up and down. Probably thinking through if Dean really could stand up by himself, and outweighing his options. But when Dean starts to leans forward like he’s about to attempt it, Cas’s eyes narrow and he sighs in defeat. “Stop.”

 

Dean tries not to smile.

 

“You must promise to sit if you are in too much pain. And we need to make this visit short so you aren’t on your feet for too long, alright?”

 

“Deal,” Dean agrees quickly, releasing one of his hands around Cas’s neck to smooth the worry lines between Cas’s brow. “Now relax, and help me up.”

 

Nodding reluctantly, he slips out from Dean’s arms to get behind him.

 

“Plant your feet on the floor, Dean. Deep breaths,” Cas instructs in his ear before carefully sliding his arms under Dean’s armpits. When Dean does as he’s told, Cas counts to three and lifts.

 

Biting his tongue hard so that no noises escape him, he’s glad Cas doesn’t immediately let go of him. He’s been off his feet too long, and too many things are hitting him at once.

 

One, there’s pain from his back, an sharp ache that has him afraid to move further. Two, there’s relief from the pressure the pup puts on his body when’s sitting. Yeah he’s a little top heavy now, but it feels good to stand. Those two things, so different and warring for his attention at the same time, make him even more determined to ride this out.

 

“I’m fine,” he grits out.

 

But Cas doesn’t let go, so he takes a cautious step forward, forcing Cas to step with him.

 

It’s uncomfortable, but he’s had a lot worse.

 

“See? Good to go,” he turns his head to Cas, whose anxiety is filling up the hallway.

 

“So it would seem,” Cas says thinly. He’s obviously unhappy with this turn of events, but slowly, his arms move from practically carrying Dean until he’s got one arm around Dean’s back and the other one gripping Dean’s hand tightly.

 

He’s never felt more pregnant.

 

He takes another step forward, and then another, until they’re making slow progress across the building.

 

“Slow down, Dean,” Cas cautions, squeezing Dean’s hand at one point.

 

“Suck it, Cas. I’m only going this slow in the first place because you’re holding me back!”

 

“I’m holding you back? I think your inability to make wise choices is holding you back in this instance, Dean.”

 

“I thought you said you ‘adore me’? That doesn’t sound very _adoring,_ dude.”

 

“I apologize. Why don’t I go fetch another wheelchair for you so that I can breathe again?”

 

“If this pup ends up being a worry wart like you, I swear to god I’m going to sue.”

 

“Dean,” Cas shakes his head, a huff of laughter tickling his neck. “Have you ever considered that _I_ might not be the ridiculous in this relationship?”

 

“I can see the headlines now,” he muses, leaning heavily on Cas. “Omega sues boyfriend for passing on undesirable personality traits to their pup.”

 

Woah. Did he just call Cas his – ?

 

Cas stiffens behind him- all of his seizing up in shock. But before Dean can take back his words or make a joke about it, Cas is kissing his neck, and Alpha arousal is quickly replacing Alpha anxiety.

 

And it says something that Dean bears his neck for Cas’s attention.

 

It’s not the same thing as referring to Cas as his Alpha or anything, not even close, but it’s still something. A verbal acknowledgement of what they are, that he hadn’t even really thought to make.

 

Judging by Cas’s reaction though, maybe he should’ve done it a little sooner if it meant making Cas this happy.

 

Turning his head to catch Cas’s lips in a quick nip he says, “Alright, alright. Come on, little Alpha. We gotta keep moving. Don’t wanna give your coworkers a free show.”

 

Cas nods, but for the rest of the time at the hospital, Cas has the biggest grin on his face.

 

Even when Missouri hit him in the back of the head for letting Dean walk around, even when he caught Dean itching at the stupid full panel thing, and even when him and Dean fought over taking the elevator or the stairs.

 

It was nice to see Cas smiling so much, so he would wait to start teasing him over it for at least a few days.

 

 

 

 

Upon stepping through the threshold, Cas ushers him right to bed. Threatening Dean by offering to carry him again when Dean tries to argue. It does the trick even if Dean was only arguing to get a rise out of Cas in the first place.

 

“That’s it. Next time, _you_ get to carry the pup,” he sighs when he’s finally situated against soft pillows and has the blankets that smell like him and Cas pulled up to his chin. “And I’d like to see you try wearing these pants without itching, too!”

 

He was kind of implying a ‘next time,’ but he was hoping Cas wouldn’t notice.

 

“Roll down the material as far as you can. Once I get a few icepacks, I’ll help you take them off,” Cas says distractedly. He’s busy placing things they might need on the nightstand closest to Dean.

 

Sighing and not for the first time wishing he could just pop a few Tylenol and be done with it, he hooks his thumbs into the stretchy material and rolls it down his belly. The soft covers are a cool contrast to the confining clothes, so he keeps his shirt pulled all the way up as well, leaving his skin bare for his fingers to roam.

 

When Missouri noticed him scratching, she’d told him about this stuff that would help. She’d promised to order it for him- and much to his relief- it’d be here in a few days. Until then, he’d have to do his best not to give into the itch; would be much easier to do now that he wouldn’t be forced into wearing pants while he was in bed.

 

He would just need to keep looking for that silver lining, because he was not too happy about having to miss work.

 

Cas leaves the room for a few minutes, giving Dean time to stroke his belly a little, before he’s back with icepacks- the breakable kind with towels over them, not actual ice in ziplocks like he had originally imagined.

 

Pulling the blankets back and smiling when he sees what Dean is doing, he leans down to kiss Dean’s stomach before carefully arranging the icepacks underneath him.

 

“You’ve gotten so big, little one,” Cas says softly, keeping his fingers pressed into Dean’s skin even after the icepacks are in place. “Are you comfortable?” he asks Dean, quirking an eyebrow up at Dean.

 

“Depends.”

 

“On?”

 

“If you plan on layin’ with me or not.”

 

That gets a smile almost as big as the one he earned at the hospital.

 

 

 

 

It’s hard to fall asleep on his back with all the pup’s weight on his body. He’s got almost all the pillows under his back, shoulders, and head, but it’s not enough.

 

Moving in increments small enough not to bother Cas, he tries and tries to get comfortable; only ending up hurting his back more. He’s so fucking frustrated, wishing he could scent at Cas’s neck like he usually would when he couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t even feel Cas’s heat next to him- having rolled over on his side facing away from Dean- and this whole back thing and this whole not being able to sleep with Cas thing was just not working out.

 

Taking a huge breath in and releasing it through his nose, he startles when a hand shoots out to grab his from the other side of the bed.

 

“Dean? What’s wrong?” Cas rasps in a tired murmur.

 

“Shit, you scared me,” he breathes back, turning his head to try and make out Cas’s face in the dark.

 

“I’m sorry. Are you alright?” Cas asks quietly, voice coming closer until he feels Cas’s stubble tickling his cheek and then his lips. Cas mouthing at his cheek and then his neck has him closing his eyes and weaving a clumsy hand into Cas’s hair to keep him there.

 

“Can’t sleep.”

 

“Are you in pain?”

 

“No. Just uncomfortable. And I can’t exactly feel you when I’m stuck like this,” Dean admits, too tired to filter his words.

 

Cas is silent for a moment. “Would you like for me to hold you?”

 

“Can you?”

 

“I think I can.”

 

“Then yeah,” Dean nods, letting go of Cas’s hair and waiting.

 

Cas is careful with him. Gentle hands and motions move him until Cas can slide behind him, with Dean between Cas’s legs, his back to Cas’s chest. At first Dean thinks this isn’t going to work- because how the fuck could anybody sleep like that? But when Cas wraps his arms around him from behind and slowly leans back against the pillows, he immediately relaxes into Cas’s hold.

 

This is better, much, much better.

 

And it’s a win-win, because now Cas can rub at Dean’s belly, and Dean has no trouble turning his head to scent Cas’s neck.

 

He’s not sure who whispers, “Goodnight, baby,” but there’s a fifty percent chance it might have been him.

 

 

 

 

The days that he’s stuck at home seem to drag on- unnaturally long.

 

The first day wasn’t so bad, because Cas got to stay with him and it ended up just being a day of the two of them pressed together and relaxing. Cas had moved the TV into the bedroom so they wouldn’t get bored, passing hours and hours watching everything from Star Trek to freaking Cupcake Wars until he had to go to the bathroom or eat. With Cas taking up permanent residence behind him for the day, it made it easy for him to switch out the icepacks and the heating pad; easing the now dull ache from the day before.

 

When Cas is about to leave the second day, casting these worried glances over at Dean as he changes, someone rings the door bell.

 

“Be right back,” Cas offers. With a tinge of guilt in his scent?

 

But when he comes back into the room with Charlie in tow, he understands.

 

“Cas,” he says, trying to keep his anger in check. “I do not need a babysitter.”

 

“To be fair, he didn’t ask me,” Charlie says uncertainly, only a half-smile on her face instead of the usual grin. “I volunteered. Figured we would marathon Star Wars before the release of TFA? We’re going to the premiere by the way, I already got us tickets!”

 

He looks suspiciously at Cas.

 

“Don’t look at me like that. This wasn’t my idea,” Cas raises his hands, the picture of innocence. He doesn’t believe it for a minute.

 

“Cas,” he says quietly, crooking a finger to get him to come closer. Cas looks nervous, but he complies, leaning in so that Dean can whisper into his ear without Charlie hearing. “I’m gonna kick your ass for this later. I might even name this kid Big Bird, just to get back at you.”

 

Chuckling loudly and pulling away, he squeezes one of Dean’s hands before turning for the door. “He’s all yours, Charlie. Remember, every twenty minutes or so. I’ll be back around six.”

 

Charlie just rolls her eyes fondly, climbing onto the other side of the bed on top of the blankets and pillows. “So. Where should we start?”

 

Charlie made for good company, giving Dean a great nerd outlet to relate with, and generally keeping him laughing or arguing good-naturedly. She’d received specific instructions from Cas to help him with changing from heat to ice, but Dean insisted on doing it himself. He wasn’t too sore, and moving occasionally did help to ease the rest of his restless body.

 

But by the third and final day of his sentence, he was going stir-crazy and feeling pretty useless.

 

“This bites,” he complained to Sam, computer balanced precariously on the top of Dean’s stomach. “I’m bored stiff, and they’re playing the same re-runs I’ve seen a million times on TV.”

 

Sam shifts, making the image pixely for a second. This skype thing wasn’t too bad until someone moved, and then he’d have to close his eyes to prevent himself from getting nauseous.

 

“Maybe you shouldn’t have pushed yourself at work then, Dean. All of us have told you to be more careful,” Sam raises his eyebrows, shooting him a puppy dog look from across the country. It’s still just as potent.

 

“I wasn’t _pushing_ myself, Sam, I was doing my damn job. There’s a difference. But maybe a paper pusher like you wouldn’t be able to spot it, huh?” he says sharply, just about fed up with everyone around him trying to coddle him.

 

“Hey. Don’t take your frustrations out on me, Dean,” Sam narrows his eyes. “I’m only stating the obvious.”

 

“Well could you not? I’m fucking sick of it.”

 

There’s a pause, and he thinks Sam might hang up on him, but all he says is, “Not giving up curse words, I see. Want to put your money where you mouth is?”

 

“You really wanna bet me, Sammy? Thought you’d learned your lesson the last time,” he smirks, forgetting his irritation.

 

“You cheated last time, Dean! That doesn’t count,” Sam scowls into the camera, making Dean laugh at his bitch face. God bless technology. It’s like his brother was here.

 

“Alright, lay it on me, you crybaby,” he rolls his eyes and shifts so that he can lose the icepack. He didn’t need it anymore.

 

“I’ll bet you 20 bucks that your pup’s first word will be a swear.”

 

“Dude. You are so on. Me and Cas are too awesome not to have this kid’s first word be some version of ‘Dadda.’ That’s easy money, man.”

 

“We’ll see.”

 

 

 

 

 

When he finally makes it back to work, fucking excited to actually do something for once despite Cas’s bitching before he left, his hopes are immediately dashed when Benny informs him that Bobby is waiting for him in his office.

 

“What’s up, Bobby?” he asks cautiously, nudging the door open slowly. Bobby is sitting at his desk, his fingers steepled in front of him, and Dean can tell by Bobby’s stormy expression that he’s not gonna like whatever Bobby has to say.

 

“Sit down, boy,” Bobby gestures to the chair in front of him.

 

“Am I in trouble or something? I feel like I’ve been sent to the principal’s office,” he tries to joke, gulping nervously, and taking a seat. Was Bobby going to fire him for missing so much work?!

 

“You’re not in trouble. Not that I know about, anyway,” Bobby rolls his eyes and then sighs, looking much older all of a sudden. “I wanted to have this talk with you later, but after the last time I saw you, I gotta do it now. And I know you’re not gonna be too happy with me once I do.”

 

“Bobby, I’m sorry about that, I just - ”

 

“Don’t be apologizing for that, you idjit,” Bobby cuts in, waving him off. “I shoulda done it earlier, before you had a chance to pull a classic Dean. I wasn’t thinking straight.”

 

“Done _what,_ Bobby?”

 

“Now don’t throw a fit. But I’m,” Bobby hesitates, looking up at Dean, face hardening. “I’m puttin’ you on the register.”

 

“Oh,” he breathes in relief, slumping back into his chair, ignoring the pressure it puts on his still tender back. “Is that all? You fucking scared me, man! I thought you were going to fire me.”

 

Being on the register for the day wasn’t exactly exciting, but he’d take bitch work for a day over losing his fucking job!

 

“Dean,” Bobby says slowly, making him feel like he’s missing something. “I’m putting you on the register for the rest of your pregnancy.”

 

“What?!” he yells, standing immediately, anger coursing throughout his entire body. “You’re fucking joking, right? Please tell me you’re joking.”

 

“Sit down!” Bobby yells back. “I don’t like this anymore than you do, Dean, but it’s gotta be done!”

 

“If you don’t like it, don’t do it, Bobby! It’s as simple as that!”

 

“You know it ain’t that simple! I gotta do right by you and that pup, son. If it means you hating me, then I can handle that,” Bobby growls at him, glaring. “Now sit down.”

 

“You’re not my dad, Bobby,” Dean snaps, breathing heard, panic starting to fill his chest now. “You have no say over what I do.”

 

Hurt crosses Bobby’s face before he’s able to school his features, but Dean can’t bring himself to care at the moment.

 

“That might be so, but that don’t stop me from giving a damn,” Bobby says, tilting his chin up when Dean refuses to sit. “I _am_ your boss, though. And if you lay hands on another vehicle without my explicit permission, I _will_ fire your ass. You’re too important to me to be risking your health the way you have. It ends today, you understand me?”

 

“This isn’t fair, Bobby! I’m not even six months yet,” Dean argues, slamming a fist down on Bobby’s desk, knocking over a bobble head and a picture frame. “You expect me to sit behind a desk and play secretary while everyone else does the real work?! I’m a fucking mechanic! That’s why you hired me!”

 

“That’s exactly what I expect, boy. I didn’t hire you because you were a good mechanic. I hired you ‘cuz you were a good kid! Now you’re a good man with a growing family. Can’t you get it through that thick skull that I’m trying to look after you?”

 

“I don’t _need_ you to look after me!” he roars, finally losing the fragile control he’s managed to keep over the frustration that’s been building up over the last few days. “I’m so fucking sick of people treating me like I’m dying or that like I can’t take care of myself! I know what’s best for me, and I know my limits! Why can’t you take my word for it and trust me for once!”

 

“This isn’t about trust!” Bobby shouts, finally standing to glower over his desk. “I trust you with my life, kid. But we’re in too deep to go back now. I’m not taking back what I said. This is final, and if you know what’s good for you, you’ll head my words.”

 

“This is complete bullshit and you know it, Bobby,” he hisses, too angry and betrayed to say anything else. Tearing out of Bobby’s office without looking at him again, he heads right for his car.

 

He needs a minute to fucking breathe.

 

His fingers are shaking too badly for him to unlock his door at first, but when he finally gets it unlocked, quickly ducking into the car and slamming the door, he screams until his throat hurts. Slamming his fists into the wheel and fighting back his stupid hitched breathing. He’s not going to fucking cry. He already felt like enough of a bitch without adding in the water works.

 

Fuck.

 

_Fuck._

Everything was slowly being stripped away from him. Everything that made him, _him._ And now he didn’t even have his job.

 

Randomly the pup kicks him, and he lets his head fall back against his seat.

 

“This is all your fault,” he whispers accusingly. If he wasn’t pregnant, none of this would’ve happened.

 

Guilt consumes him as soon as he thinks this though, and it’s just enough to pull him out of his pity party.

 

Taking a deep breath, he storms back to work. He refuses to acknowledge anyone but customers as he sits behind the fucking front desk, and when his shift is over, he leaves without saying anything, head held fucking high.

 

 

 

 

 

When Cas gets home and Dean tells him what happened at work, he’s not expecting Cas’s response.

 

“I agree with Bobby, Dean. You shouldn’t be working in such a dangerous environment while you’re pregnant,” Cas says softly, tilting his head when Dean jerks away from his touch.

 

They were laying on their sides, facing each other, with Cas stroking a hand through Dean’s hair. Now though, Dean is struggling to get out of bed, rolling and then pressing up with his arms like Cas told him.

 

“Why are you fucking agreeing with him?! I thought out of everyone, you’d be on my side!” he spits at Cas. “I _trusted_ you.”

 

“Dean,” Cas says, taken aback. “I will always be on your side. But this isn’t just about your feelings anymore. This about you and our baby. Your health - ”

 

“SHUT UP CAS!” he yells, whipping around and growling at him. “You don’t understand. NONE of you understand!”

 

“Then help me to,” Cas begs quietly, sitting up slowly. “Please, Dean. Let me help you.”

 

Wrong choice of words.

 

Turning on his heel, he has to leave, has to get out of here.

 

“Where are you going. Dean?” Cas calls, and he can tell Cas is scrambling to follow him. “We need to talk about this, please don’t leave.”

 

“I’m going for a drive. Don’t follow me,” he calls woodenly over his shoulder, slamming the door in Cas’s face and walking briskly towards his car.

 

Cas doesn’t follow him.

 

 

 

 

As it turns out, there’s not a lot of places he can go though.

 

He can’t go to a bar or drink his sorrows away, he can’t go to work to let out a little steam, and with the way he’s looking, he’d never be able to find a hook up. He doesn’t _want_ anyone but Cas, but he’s so fucking hurt and confused- he can’t help but to think back to his old cooping mechanisms. He’s got nothing.

 

In the end, he decides to go grocery shopping.

 

Might as well make himself useful while he’s out. But instead of going to the grocery store closest to Cas, the one they’ve been going to together for a few months now, he decides to drive to the one closest to his apartment. Just because he can.

 

Locking his car and heading for the entrance, he narrows his eyes when he sees a vaguely familiar group of teenagers glaring at him as he walks through the doors. One of them fake coughs, “fucking pussy,” under their breath but there’s about six of them and he couldn’t see which one it was.

 

Rolling his eyes, he tries not to let it bother him.

 

They’re just kids. They don’t know any better.

 

And as he pushes his cart through the store, adding a bunch of junk food he knows Cas will _love,_ he thinks about his own kid. His little pudger. No matter what happened, he would _never_ let his kid foster hate for another human being. Those kids were a product of neglectful or just plain bad parenting, and he wouldn’t stand for it happening to his pup.

 

It was with that line of thinking that he slipped, _What to Expect While Expecting,_ into his cart, looking down the lane both ways to see if anyone was looking.

 

He was tired of constantly being surprised when the pup threw him for a new loop anyway, so it wasn’t a big deal. Nor was it a big deal when the lady ringing him up smiled at him and his belly, telling him how helpful the book had been for her with her first child. It wasn’t hard to smile back, his anger finally placed on the back-burner for the first time all day, and listen to her tell stories about her son Peter.

 

By the end of their short conversation, he was feeling a little better, a little calmer. Waving a little as he left the store, he took a deep breath and braced himself against the cold night. A storm was brewing, the wind like little knives against his skin, so he hurried along to his car.

 

If he hadn’t parked under a streetlight, he wouldn’t have noticed his car sitting a little bit lower than was normal.

 

He’s frozen where he is, staring at his car in shock.

 

All four of his tires are slashed, and scratched neatly into the side of his baby, is the word, _BITCH._

 

Closing his eyes and feeling his heart sink down into the pits of his stomach, he pulls out his cell phone numbly.

 

“Dean?” Cas answers frantically. “Tell me you are okay.”

 

“Fine. I need you to come get me,” he says hollowly, keeping his eyes closed. There’s not inflection in his voice, nothing that could give him away.

 

“I’m leaving now. Where are you?” Cas says, sounding relieved and worried simultaneously. He can’t make himself care.

 

“Grocery store. The first one we went to. I’m in the parking lot,” is all he says before hanging up. Immediately, he calls another number.

 

“Hello?” Bobby grunts.

 

“It’s Dean. Need someone to tow the impala tomorrow. It’s in the parking lot of the grocery store on Pine street,” he rattles off without thinking about it.

 

“Alright? What happened to it?” Bobby is saying, but again, Dean hangs up.

 

It’s freezing outside, but he doesn’t feel it. He shuts it out. He hasn’t moved a single step, and he doesn’t until he sees a familiar prius pull in next to him.

 

Cas takes in the damage with wide, angry eyes. His scent might match his own if hurt and self-loathing wasn’t drowning out his anger. “Oh, Dean.”

 

When Cas tries to touch him, tries to hold him, Dean flinches away. Walking on unsteady feet to Cas’s passenger seat, pulling the door closed behind him. He doesn’t want to be touched. And he doesn’t want to talk.

 

Closing his eyes and pressing his face against the cold glass, he doesn’t react as Cas starts the car. He doesn’t know what Cas did with the groceries, and he doesn’t ask. He can feel Cas’s eyes on him, but Cas doesn’t try to make him talk.

 

It’s deadly quiet the entire way back to Cas’s house.

 

 

 

 

 

He watches helplessly as Dean walks mechanically from the car to the bedroom. There’s nothing on his face, no emotions, while his scent screams otherwise. There’s anger and frustration and so much _pain._

 

Dean is shutting down, and there’s nothing he can do about it.

 

All day Dean had seemed at war with himself- angry and frustrated now that things were really starting to change. Castiel had- to some degree- anticipated some disturbances in their recent peace, but he’d never imagined this. Not for the first time he wished for the ability to shelter Dean from the rest of the world.

 

How could someone do this to someone so _good?_

 

With Dean already feeling off, this seemed to be the final straw.

 

Wanting to comfort Dean, wanting to do _something,_ even if it was not letting Dean be alone, Castiel follows Dean’s lead. Climbing into bed and pulling the covers up. He desperately wants to break the heavy silence, if only to hear that beautiful voice, but he can’t. Dean is turned away from him which means Dean isn’t ready to let him in.

 

It goes on for hours. The two of them sitting in the dark- complete silence surrounding them with unforgiving arms as he waits for some indication to offer his love. He wants to give it so badly it hurts. Wants to sooth away all of Dean’s pain with it and make everything alright again. He knows logically that it won’t be that easy, but was anything worth fighting for ever easy to come by?

 

He breaks when the bed starts shaking.

 

Turning carefully on his side so that he can see Dean again, he inhales sharply at the feeling of his heart being absolutely torn to shreds.

 

The bed is shaking because Dean is desperately attempting to restrain his sobs.

 

Laying on his side facing away from Castiel, he can’t see Dean’s face, but he can hear his choked, ragged breathing, and see the way his entire body is shaking.

 

 _He can’t do this_. He can’t just sit here and let Dean suffer alone in silence. He physically cannot. He won’t.

 

Fighting back his own tears, he moves so that he’s right behind Dean. He knows Dean has to feel the bed move, but he doesn’t react except his breathing goes silent. Hesitating for only a moment more, he situates himself along Dean’s back, wrapping his arms around his chest and pressing his nose against Dean’s clammy neck. Holding him as tightly as he can.

 

Dean is frozen, tense in his arms for one second.

 

And then he lets out a horrible sound, a quiet, shutter breath really- so filled with pain and sorrow he thinks he’ll never be able to get it out of his head- and then Dean doesn’t try to hold back his tears any longer.

 

Arms coming up to clutch desperately at Castiel’s arms wrapped around him, Dean sobs brokenly as he holds him.

 

Tears sliding in a torrent of anguish down his face, Dean finally lets go. Crying so hard that he struggles to draw breath in, his whole body moves Castiel’s with the force of his sobs now.

 

“It hurts, Cas,” he cries. “It hurts so goddamn bad.”

 

“I’m so sorry, Dean,” Castiel whispers back, nuzzling into Dean’s neck, his own tears mingling with Dean’s. “I’m so sorry.”

 

“I- I- I can’t,” Dean chokes, voice breaking as he tries to speak. “Why? Why does it feel like this?”

 

“I don’t know. But you’re strong, beautiful. You can get through this,” he continues to whisper over Dean’s quiet sobbing.

 

“I’m not. I’m not strong. I’m a…I’m a bitch, Cas. I c-can’t do any-anything anymore.” Dean gasps, his words almost too garbled for Castiel to hear.

 

Almost.

 

“Dean,” Castiel growls, turning Dean around and gripping his face in both hands. “You are not that word. You will _never be that word._ You are perfect in every way, and I pity the people who can’t see that. Don’t you know that you are my favorite person?”

 

Green eyes filled with tears look desperately up at him- red rimmed and swollen.

 

“Don’t,” Dean gasps, squeezing his eyes closed and clenching his fingers in the front of Castiel’s shirt. “Please. Don’t- don't leave me.”

 

“Never, Dean,” he assures him, voice trembling as he pulls Dean against his chest, Dean’s belly causing a tangible gap between them that he ignores in favor of holding Dean as close as possible. “I’ll never leave you. I promise.”

 

“Okay,” he hears Dean murmur against his shirt, which is quickly soaked by his tears.

 

His sobs renew- get louder and rougher after that- until he cries himself out in Castiel’s arms.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one has been building up for a long time, and Dean needed to let it out. I apologize again for the feels. And I apologize for spelling and grammar mistakes, I was trying to get this to ASAP, because I don't know when I'll be able to write again! Hope it's sooner rather than later. Love you guys


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't listen to 'All of Me' by John Legend and think of Dean and Cas. Don't fucking do it unless you want to get super emotional.
> 
> And this chapter is dedicated to the You are Not Alone campaign. If you haven't supported Misha and Jensen's campaign yet, there's links all over both their twitters and Facebook! 
> 
> Never forget, you are not alone.

 

 

It’s a rough night. He wakes constantly, the weight in his chest an unbearable burden that has him feeling more than a little miserable, and more than a little hurt. It’s like a bloody, gaping wound has replaced the area his heart used to reside.

 

The only reason he gets any sleep at all is because for whatever reason, Cas has become strangely attuned to him. Whenever Dean’s awake, Cas is awake also.

 

The first two times it happened, Cas turned towards a gasping Dean, kissing his face and murmuring soft words of comfort that fell on deaf ears. He fought against it, turning away from him and moving over as far as the bed allowed. He’d harbored just enough of the sting from earlier in the night to ignore Cas’s soothing words. But by the third time and on, Cas kept his eyes closed and just held him tighter; gathering him close, and running his fingers through Dean’s hair while Dean fought to get air.

 

And Dean clung to him.

 

He didn’t want to speak, didn’t want words at all. But this? He couldn’t resist anymore. Cas was warm and soft and smelled good. And he was solid compared to the chipped, broken thing he felt like and must resemble.

 

Just when he’d work himself up again to the point where his eyes and nose would burn with the pressure to cry, the pressure to release all his pent up frustration and pain, Cas would swoop in to take his exhausted and overwrought mind off of his sad and pathetic life enough to lulled to sleep. Cas knew exactly what to say, and knew exactly how to hold him.

 

Basically, if anyone was a superhero within their relationship, it was Cas.

 

When daylight finally brightens the room enough so that he can see Cas’s face, his eyes are still closed, but Dean can tell that he’s awake and thinking by the tiny scrunch between his eyebrows and the barely there frown turning down his lips.

 

But thinking usually leads to a conversation, and he wasn’t ready to put his emotions to words yet. Maybe he’d never be. So instead of waiting for the words to come, he presses his nose to Cas’s neck, closes his eyes and inhales deeply.

 

When Cas begins to speak quietly, words resounding in their quiet little bubble, he can feel the soft vibration against his face.

 

“Do you know that I’ve already figured out what kind of father I will be?”

 

When Dean doesn’t give any indication that he’s heard or even that he’s really awake, since Cas still has his eyes closed, Cas continues, “Yes, I’ve given it a fair bit of thought, actually. Because I worry- you know I worry- about what the future will present for the three of us…”

 

The three of us. God, those few words had the capability to cripple him.

 

Cas sighs, and Dean feels every movement of it; the way his chest expands and then deflates, the way his heart beats in a slow, measured rhythm, the way Cas shifts him minutely closer. He wonders if Cas is trying to scent him too.

 

“That’s where I started thinking this through. Because of the worry, it went on and on, worrying about their birth, the time after, when the pup will start to walk, I even started worrying about it’s first birthday party the other day,” he chuckles softly, and he can feel Cas smiles when Dean huffs a surprised laugh himself. There’s no pretending anymore.

 

“And I came to the swift realization that I will be anything this child needs me to be. I will do anything and everything in my power to make sure our child has a long, strong, _happy_ , healthy life.”

 

Dean inhales sharply but nods against him, agreeing with this completely, when Cas pauses.

 

“This is also the exact moment I realized how much I envy you, Dean.”

 

What? How was there _anything_ Cas could possibly be jealous of? It’s so freaking absurd, that he’s almost tempted to speak.

 

Cas seems to guess what he’s thinking and read without words what Dean is broadcasting by the stiffness of his body.

 

“I begin my journey with this baby _after_ it’s born, Dean. I get to start being everything I want to be for it then, and I am overjoyed that I get to have this opportunity, but….You have already started, Dean. Since the moment we found out about this pup, you’ve been taking care of it.”

 

Thinking back to the alcohol fueled rage, the sleepless nights and barely eating….he shakes his head, heart sinking as he’s reminded of just how big of a failure he is. As a parent, and as a partner for letting Cas feel the way he is.

 

“You have, Dean. I’ve seen it,” Cas insists. “Every single day, you are doing everything you can to help this baby live to it’s highest potential. You are eating and sleeping right, you haven’t drank, smoked, or ingested caffeine. No medications that could harm the pup, not even Tylenol when you were in pain…And I can see the way you shield the pup, Dean,” he says softly, palm rubbing circles into his back, a touch of warm pressure that has him leaning further into Cas. “You curl protectively around it when you think no one is looking, and take a step back if you think someone or something is too close. You’re protecting our baby without even knowing it.”

 

Did he? He hadn’t noticed, and he’s surprised that Cas _has._ Knowing that Cas pays such close attention to him and the pup has him gulping with sudden emotion.

 

“That’s why I know how hard the last couple of days have been for you,” Cas whispers, “I’ve never seen you this on edge before now, this frustrated. And I think it might be because some part of you was afraid of the things that you knew had to happen in order for you to keep doing your job as a parent. Maybe you’ve been waiting for the other shoe to drop, I don’t know, but maybe….you’re suspicions about being yourself have finally come to fruition.”

 

Cas’s fingers weave through his hair, but he doesn’t comment when hot tears start to slowly slide down Dean’s cheeks and onto Cas’s neck.

 

“What… what you are doing, Dean,” Cas hesitates, clearing this throat, “Is anything but weak. Taking yourself out of a dangerous environment in order to protect something precious- something helpless-that’s showing strength beyond measure. And courage, and love. You are doing everything I can’t.”

 

Dean’s biting his lip so hard at this point as the tears continue to fall, fingers digging into any part of Cas he can reach, holding on to him and his words like a life line.

 

“And I-,” his voice breaks, “I apologize if for any reason you misconstrued my reasons for agreeing with your boss’s decision. I never wanted you to feel as if your voice and opinion don’t matter to me. It matters to me more than you could possibly know.”

 

A quiet sob works it’s way unwillingly out of his throat at Cas’s words-because finally, _finally-_ someone is trying to see through his eyes. He was strong once. People looked to him for decisions instead of making them for him. When everyone started treating him differently, he felt out of place and fucking useless. Knowing that Cas was at least aware of how he was feeling was a relief. It’s an unexpected feeling, and a tiny bit of the loneliness he’d been sheltering since last night leaves him.

 

Cas turns slowly onto his side so that Dean can fit himself quickly and completely against him, choked sobs now muffled into Cas’s damp shirt while Cas wraps his arms around him tight. He feels stupid for crying, but he can’t hold it back any more without fucking imploding.

 

It doesn’t hurt as much as before.

 

“You are not alone, Dean. Everyone around you cares about you and this pup,” he whispers into Dean’s hair. “Even if we don’t go about _showing_ that in the best way.”

 

He wasn’t wrong. Just because the people in his life wanted to do what was best for him, didn’t mean that he was wrong for being upset about how they went about it. In order for him to actually be okay with the way things are, he’s going to have to be able to choose what was right and wrong for himself.

 

“You are so important, Dean,” Cas ducks to say softly in his ear, kissing a tear away from his cheek and then tucking Dean to him again.

 

Important? Then why does he feel so goddamn small?

 

Even with how huge he is, he still feels like Cas is dwarfing him, wrapped around him and in him. As the seconds and minutes tick by, he starts to think maybe that’s okay. Just when he’s with Cas.

 

 

 

 

 

Cas doesn’t try to make him talk. Even after his tears are long gone and they’re both preparing to leave for work. The silence isn’t awkward though, and he’s glad Cas knows that there is no pressure to fill it. It gives him time to think.

 

Even more so when Cas drops him off at the garage- classical music playing like always in the background- but since they’re in Cas’s car instead of his own like he should be, his thoughts take a darker turn.

 

He should be driving himself to work in his own damn car. Just thinking about baby all scratched up with slashed tires has anger tamping down his other emotions. It’s a welcome reprieve from his sorrows, so he lets himself feel it without pushing it away. Nobody fucked with his car. Fucking nobody.

 

He knows who fucking did it, too. Those teenagers he always used to see around town, the ones who glared at him and hissed slurs under their breath as he walked by last night. It has to be. He hadn’t recognized any other familiar faces, and only they would have known what car he drove.

 

Was it better or worse that he knew their faces? He already knew he wouldn’t say anything- they had to be _kids_ , didn’t they?- but if he _didn’t_ know, would he have? The situation would have been completely different if it was some random strangers who’d done that to his car because that would have represented the way _everyone_ must see him. How people who didn’t know him before all this must see him. Putting a face to the crime probably lessened the blow a tiny bit.

 

He’ll have to remember that as he watches Benny or Ash or Bobby working on _his_ pride and joy.

 

Silently.

 

He was bound and determined to hold his tongue. The pain was too raw, too fresh.

 

He needed to feel more control over the situation and his haywire emotions before he would be ready to put it to words.

 

And he was afraid of what might come out of his mouth if he opened it.

 

Frowning when Cas pulls right in front of the front doors, he doesn’t immediately reach for the handle to get out. Is it sad that he doesn’t want to leave the comfort Cas provides? Or maybe he just doesn’t want to leave Cas…

 

“You don’t have to go in today, Dean,” Cas says gently, but his scent and the way his knuckles are turning white around the steering wheel belie the stress he’s feeling. He’s pretending to be calm on Dean’s behalf. “I’m sure everyone would understand if you needed some time.”

 

That’s not what he needed right now. If he took some time, he’d just be dwelling on shit that didn’t need to be dwelt upon. Is dwelt even a fucking word? He shakes his head- at himself and to Cas’s suggestion.

 

When Cas’s anxiety only spikes, Dean rolls his eyes and grabs the front of his shirt.

 

Sometimes he didn’t need words. Tugging him over to kiss him, it’s a lot softer than he’d imagined once Cas gets with the picture and kisses back. It feels like there’s meaning behind it as Cas reaches up to cradle his face and moves his lips gently against his. It’s the kind of kiss that should come with some kind of declaration; soft words reaffirming whatever is going on between them. It kind of feels like how he imagines mates would kiss.

 

When they pull apart, neither of them looks away, Dean just stares unblinkingly into piercing blue.

 

He leans in to kiss him one more time before reaching for the door, shrugging off the sparks of something deep and warm residing in his stomach. More feelings he needs to fucking ignore.

 

It’s a struggle with Cas’s car down so low, but he manages- albeit a little awkwardly. Patting his stomach twice and huffing in exasperation, he winks at Cas before heading inside, feeling Cas’s eyes on him the entire way.

 

There’s the soft sound of Cas’s stupid prius pulling away, and his shoulders slump a little. He’s completely alone again. His backup is gone.

 

Thinking he couldn’t actually bear the sight of someone else working on baby, he forgoes heading to see her, choosing instead to go right to the desk in the front. Where he belongs.

 

At least he felt a little bit better about his downgrade after his talk with Cas. It actually felt more like his choice now that he was aware of what he’d been doing to protect his pup. He should want this, or even jus acknowledge that this is what’s best for now- and that is was temporary. He’d misunderstood. And he kinda felt bad for snapping at Bobby when Bobby was so obviously seeing the bigger picture and trying to look out for the two of them.

 

Wow, he sucked. He’d done his fucking best to hurt Bobby, pulling out the dad card he knew would sting deep, but that’s what he did when he was wounded. Lashing out was the only thing that protected him sometimes.

 

“What are you doin’ there moping around?” Bobby’s voice startles him as he comes up from behind Dean. “I know you, boy. Get up. You got one last car before you get to sit your ass back in that chair.”

 

Blinking in shock, but standing regardless, a slow smile works it’s way onto his face as he meets Bobby’s eye. Bobby doesn’t look angry, and he doesn’t see pity anywhere on his face either.

 

“What? You thought I’d be dumb enough to make you sit this one out?” Bobby raises an eyebrow at him, smiling a little under all that facial hair. “I ain’t that cruel. And I’d never hear the end of it. Go on now, get to it.”

Not stopping to ask questions in case he changes his mind(not that he would actually ask questions), Dean mock punches Bobby on his way to the loading dock in thanks.

 

“Make sure you take breaks if you need em’, and don’t you dare try touching those tires. They’re too heavy!” Bobby yells after him, grumbling under his breath, “This kid makes _me_ feel like the parent for shit’s sake.”

 

Rolling his eyes at Bobby, he only takes a few more steps before he freezes, wincing at the sight before him.

 

It had been pretty dark and he’d been shutting down even before Cas got there to pick him up last night, so he hadn’t really been able to take in all the damage.

 

While definitely not as bad as it could be, it was going to take him all day to buff out that god awful word. But until he actually did something about it, it was just going to be staring him right in the face.

 

Pulling over the rolling chair and carefully lowering himself into it with the support of his baby- his car baby, not his _baby_ baby, which was just _trying_ to be as obtrusive as possible-he runs his fingers over the unblemished paint. He could fix this. He could fix everything.

 

Time to get cracking.

 

 

 

 

 

It’s slow work, peaceful in a way, because everything around him was quiet as well. It was repetitive and calming. And f course, it gave him more time to think.

 

His thoughts inevitably circle around and in between the pup and Cas.

 

The pup, because it was kinda hard not to be reminded of him as he tried again and again to lean a certain way and find the proper angle to work around his bump. And because he might have started to refer to him as a ‘he’ in his head recently- the little boy with bright blue eyes like he’d imagined before- which was new.

 

And Cas, because…..well because.

 

The man was a fucking Alpha for god’s sake, he had no business being all sensitive and understanding. All his previous misgivings about Alphas had been completely dismissed in the wake of Cas, forcing him time and time again to rethink his prejudice against them. When more than likely…it was just Cas.

 

It was Cas who picked him up last night and didn’t push him into talking. It was Cas who fucking held him last night when the dam burst and he couldn’t tell up from down. This was time and time again now, with just the repeating pattern of _Cas._ And it was Cas who he couldn’t wait to go home to. So what if it wasn’t really his actual home? So what if Cas wasn’t technically _his_ Alpha? That was all semantics.

 

He couldn’t wait to see him again. Maybe then he could actually articulate how grateful he was for Cas’s presence through all this bullshit.

 

The hours all but fly by.

 

Benny volunteers to take him home since he’s heading in that direction anyway to see his niece and they have to specially order the tires he’d had on the impala.

 

“Not gonna talk to me, huh? Bobby told me you ain’t said a word all day,” Benny smirks over at him in challenge.

 

Dean flips him the bird without a second’s hesitation. He’s not pissed at Benny or anything, he’s just… anxious to be home.

 

“I see how it is,” Benny chuckles, eyes shifting from Dean back to the road again. “Good thing I don’t really need you to hold a conversation. I kinda like the sound of my own voice, don’t you?”

 

Benny makes him laugh when he tells Dean how much Katie misses him and Big Bird- she decided that she was no longer okay with sharing her name- and how badly she begs to go and see them again. Especially if Cas has any leftovers of the candy he’d given her. He nods, shakes his head, and laughs, but he’s still saving his words for a different Alpha.

 

When he sees the lights in the window waiting for him, he waves Benny off and eagerly follows the pathway to the door. Fucking finally. Today had felt longer than yesterday, and he was absolutely positive that that was not physically possible. Not with the way he and Cas were up at all hours of the night.

 

Cas.

 

Biting his lip in anticipation, opening the door and sighing in relief when Cas’s familiar scent blankets him completely, he sees Cas sitting on the couch to his left with something in his hand. It looks like he’s reading a book or something, but when he steps in further to get a better look, Cas looks up at him surprised, and tries to hide it from him.

 

“Dean,” Cas says in a rush, placing the book on his opposite side, away from Dean. “I didn’t hear you come in. I’m sorry, I got a bit distracted.”

 

Scrunching his eyes in confusion at Cas’s behavior- cuz’ what could be worth hiding, porn? Cas did _not_ seem like the type- he reaches for the thing despite Cas’s grip on it. Cas doesn’t really let go, fingers still holding it loosely, but Dean is able to get a glance at the title. Looking slowly up from the book and taking in Cas’s embarrassment, warmth floods his chest.

 

Cas was reading _What to Expect While Expecting._

Cas was trying- just like him- to figure all this shit out. Yet he was always the steady one, always there to provide support for Dean when he felt out of depth and lost. It was at this exact moment that he realized how hard Cas was _trying._ Trying to keep both of them together and get them ready for this baby, trying to always keep Dean happy, trying to pretend that he wasn’t just as scared and unprepared as Dean was.

 

Gently, he pries Cas’s fingers away from the book before setting it down calmly on the coffee table. Cas has his eyes on the floor, so he doesn’t see Dean coming until he’s pushed roughly against the back of the couch and Dean is carefully swinging his leg up and over Cas so that he’s straddling him.

 

“Dean what - ” is all Cas manages to say before Dean is kissing him.

 

Wrapping his arms around Cas’s neck, shivering when their tongues meet, he scoots forward on Cas’s lap until they’re pressed together- as close as he can get with their pup in the way.

 

Dean is all desperation and heat, completely turned on all of a sudden by the man underneath him. There lips are making wet sounds as they meet again and again, stealing the air from between them, and Dean cannot get enough of him.

 

Cas’s hands start in his hair as they’re kissing, but they slowly begin to inch their way down his back when Dean gives a suggestive grind of his hips. He wants Cas hard. Right the fuck now.

 

“Cas,” he gasps, the first word he’s said all day. Cas has moved onto his neck, sucking and biting and licking, but when he hears Dean’s voice, he pauses to smile against his skin. “Cas, help me get these damn pants off.”

 

Cas’s brows shoot straight up and his lips freeze against Dean.

 

Dean smirks at that dumbstruck look, because yeah- he fucking did that.

 

But when Cas stays frozen, he presses down with his hips again, causing a hiss to slip past Cas’s lips. The movement startles him to action.

 

Grabbing Dean’s thighs in a firm grip and hefting both of them forward, he lets Dean get his feet out from under him so that they’re both standing. That’s the only kind of space he gets though, as Cas is immediately grabs for his shirt and starts to pull it up and off of him- while Dean starts frantically pulling and tugging the stupid stretchy material down his stomach as fast as he can. But he's too impatient to lift his arms. He shoves Cas's hands away from it, making an aggravated sound of warning to let Cas know to move on. All they need off is their pants at the moment.

 

Cas is so caught up in Dean, running his hands all over his back and shoulders while pressing kisses anywhere that he can reach, that he doesn’t even attempt to undress himself.

 

“Fucking finally,” he sighs in relief when he’s got the material down past his hips. He reaches for Cas’s fly, tilting his head to the side as Cas nips and sucks at his neck, and unzips the straining zipper with shaking fingers. Cas’s erection springs free, tented within Cas’s boxers, which he can’t help but think are in the way. Thumbs sliding under the elastic, he hears a moan vibrate against his neck as he pulls down the material to bare Cas to the room. But he doesn’t touch him yet.

 

Pulling away abruptly and ducking when Cas tries to follow with his lips, Dean smirks to himself before shoving Cas down on the couch and crawling into his lap again.

 

“Give me your hands, Cas,” he commands in a husky whisper, reaching for them before Cas can even really react. He wants to lead them anyway, so he doesn’t wait. Taking Cas’s fingers in his own, he guides them behind himself, placing Cas’s hands on his ass before letting go.

 

He can feel the slick pumping out of him at a rapid pace, knows Cas can scent it, so he scoots forward and up until Cas’s cock is sliding against his balls, creating a wet trail leading closer and closer to Dean’s entrance with the way he’s rocking.

 

“Dean,” Cas gasps, voice deep despite the lack of oxygen he’s getting. He squeezes both of Dean’s cheeks together and kneads the skin roughly before his finger tips are delving deeper- spreading him open and working his fingers through slick to lightly trace his rim.

 

“Yeah. Do it,” Dean murmurs, wrapping his arms around Cas’s neck again and leaning his weight against his chest so that his ass is up and exposed to Cas.

 

Cas is panting, the sound of it labored and fucking beautiful as a single finger slips inside him. He’s so slick that it’s almost too easy, and Cas moans at the sound Dean makes when a second quickly joins the first. Cas’s fingers are thick, filling him up at the same time as tearing him apart, and he bites his lip and turns his face into Cas’s hair when Cas starts a scissoring motion inside him.

 

Unable to stay still while Cas’s fingers start to move and twist in and out of him, his hips starts grinding; working with Cas’s fingers as well as working the tip of Cas’s drooling cock in between his balls and Cas’s fingers, rubbing against it and smiling when he feels Cas’s fingers abruptly crook. Cas’s cock feels so fucking good right there.

 

But he knows where it’ll feel better.

 

He’s slick enough, he can do it. He wants Cas right now, and he’s going to take him. He’s in control.

 

“Hands. Gimme,” he demands on his next breath. He has to drag them away, his own slick making Cas’s fingers shiny and wet, and he places them on the cushions on either side of him. Pressing them down firmly. ”Stay,” he whispers hotly against the shell of Cas’s ear. When Cas opens his mouth to say something, Dean presses a single finger against his lips to silence him.

 

This is his show. He’s taking control of one thing in his fucking life, and goddammit, he’s going to enjoy it. He wants to feel like the man he was before.

 

Cas nods, eyes wide and cautious, fingers noticeably digging into the cushions, and waits for Dean’s direction.

 

Good.

 

Scooting up so that all his weight and belly is pressed against Cas’s front, he reaches behind himself, gripping Cas’s cock and giving it a few quick strokes before scooting back again. He’s not looking at Cas- too focused on his task- but he hears a deep groan as he shifts his hips right over the head, rubbing it accidently against his leaking entrance as he tries to find the right angle.

 

There’s a nervous flutter in his throat, his bravado diminishing somewhat when he feels the blunt press of Cas’s dick against him. But this feels like more than sex, it’s importance weighing heavily on his mind, and he needs to do this; fuck his insecurities.

 

Taking a deep breath, he slowly- _very fucking slowly-_ starts to sink down on Cas’s cock. It’s fucking weird to have that kind of pressure between his cheeks again, but it’s a good kind of weird. There’s really no resistance, no stretch as he takes Cas inside him.

Cas’s hands flutter at his sides uselessly, obviously torn, and the sounds coming out of his mouth sounds more like a wounded animal as Dean takes him inch by inch.

 

Cas feels so fucking big like this, feeling impossible long as he continues his slide. When he finally bottoms out, fully seated on Cas’s lap now, he feels completely full.

 

“Dean,” Cas rasps. Every single one of Cas’s muscles are flexed tight, probably trying to keep himself from moving, and the idea makes him bite his lip and tighten his own muscles, squeezing Cas tight. “ _Dean,”_ he hisses, more urgent now, “Open your eyes.”

 

But he’s on the cusp of something, doesn’t want to open his eyes lest the illusion of control fleas at the first sign of Cas’s Alpha qualities force him to submit. With his eyes closed, he can pretend. Pretend his legs aren’t spread for Cas, pretend he’s not pregnant and fat, pretend that he has all the power.

 

Dean shakes his head instead of answering, and starts to rise a little only to slide back down. It’s barely a rocking motion, but it feels good, and Cas seems to lose the ability to make noises more intelligent than a grunt.

 

He braces himself against Cas’s shoulder, using the leverage to help him start a stilted, awkward rhythm. He’s panting loudly at this point, heart racing, but he decides to kick it up a notch. Just for Cas. No one else gets him this riled up and reckless.

 

“You like that, Cas?” he gasps, finally getting the hang of the motion, and using it to squeeze Cas on every downward thrust. “Do you like it when I ride you? Or do you like that I’m fucking myself on your cock, and you aren’t even- _fuck!”_

 

His eyes shoot open when Cas lunges up hard, his cock going deeper than before, startling a moan out of him when Cas immediately repeats the motion. Every other thrust now, he’s nailing his prostate and making his vision fuzzy.

 

His eyelids start to droop in a pleasured haze, leaning his weight forward to give Cas more room to fuck up into him, but he still looks down. He can’t see his own dick- being blocked by his belly and all- but he can feel it slapping Cas’s stomach, the sound of it only turning him on more along with the wet sound of Cas’s balls hitting his skin over and over again.

 

“Cas,” Dean whines between thrusts, blearily watching himself bouncing on Cas’s cock, struggling to lift his head enough to see Cas’s face contorted in pleasure. The up and down motion is moving his entire body, and soon he’s bracing himself against Cas just so that their pup isn’t squished between them. “Faster.”

 

His thighs start to burn as Cas picks up his pace, pounding up into his ass now- tearing breathless noises from his throat- and he can’t keep up. He wanted it faster, but he’s kind of pregnant and out of shape right now.

 

“Hands, Cas,” he demands hoarsely through his gasps. “Use em’.”

 

He kind of expects Cas’s hands to go to his ass or something, or maybe even his legs to help him move over him better, but as soon as Cas gets permission to use his hands, Cas’s arms immediately shoot out to wrap around Dean’s lower back to hold him close.

 

“Your back,” Cas wheezes, rubbing his fingers into Dean’s muscles. “Need to be careful. Don’t want you to strain yourself.”

 

Everything freezes. He’s completely sitting in Cas’s lap now, staring at Cas while Cas stares back, both of them out of breath and sweaty.

 

His heart floods with fucking warmth at the look Cas is giving him, a look he’s pretty familiar with, but is not ready to put a name to. It astounds him that even now, even when they’re fucking for god’s sake, Cas is trying to look out for him. He doesn’t really know what to do with that.

 

“Cas,” he whispers shakily, bracing himself on the couch now to slant his mouth to Cas’s. Their angle is a little too awkward for it to be a very long kiss, but it’s still enough, still enough for him to feel Cas and for him to demonstrate his own feelings without saying anything. Lips and teeth and tongue. Because he does have feelings for Cas, maybe even the same ones he can see on Cas’s face, but that would be too much too soon.

 

Nipping gently at Cas’s bottom lip and pressing his forehead against Cas’s, Dean wraps his arms around Cas’s neck and squeezes his muscles in his ass again to get Cas moving. Only when he does, it’s a lot slower- sweeter- not so fever paced, and he forgets his hang ups with control. Cas can fucking have it, because he knows Cas will always do his best to take care of him.

 

With his arms wrapped around Cas’s neck and his face now pressed into Cas’s neck to muffle his moans and scent at Cas, he lets Cas hold him and take him. Cas never lets go of his back. He’s barely moving now, too caught up in feeling as Cas moves him up and down just right, thrusts in and out of him for so long, he loses any and all aspect of the time.

 

When he finally comes, moan not quite muffled by Cas’s skin, he sinks into Cas loose and boneless, barely aware when Cas’s knot catches and starts to release inside him sometime later, accompanied by Cas’s soft groan next to his ear. His grip on Cas tightens. Even if he could move, he wouldn’t.

 

One of Cas’s hands moves to his hair while the other supports his back still, fingers weaving through it to rub his scalp in the silence that follows. He could probably fall asleep like this, pressed against Cas and his warmth- he didn’t even care that Cas was still inside him and that his legs were definitely going to be sore tomorrow.

 

His eyes are closed when Cas nuzzles into him so that their foreheads are pressed together, the sweaty skin sliding against each other until they find a comfortable position. Both of them managed to keep their shirts on strangely enough, so Dean uses his grip on Cas’s, to steady himself for whatever Cas is about to say.

 

“How are you?” Cas asks him softly, the hand in his hair moving down to rub against his damp shirt. It’s a simple question, but he probably has a million different ways he could answer.

 

“Better now,” he decides to try for humor, smirking a little until Cas kisses it off his face.

 

“Dean,” Cas sighs, the sound altogether not quite unhappy. “As much as I wish otherwise… sex does not cure our problems.”

 

Biting his lip and clenching his eyes closed even tighter, he wished Cas wasn’t right.

 

“I know,” he murmurs after a minute.

 

The hand on his back doesn’t stop moving. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

 

But he does. He really does. If he expects Cas to keep trying with him, then he needs to give him a reason to. At least some insight into what he’s feeling so that Cas will somewhat understand. But he’s never been good with words.

 

“It just…” he takes a huge breath in and lets it out slowly. “Everything came at me at once, you know? I don’t know if it’s the pregnancy hormones making me crazy or something, or if it’s just me. It was too much…. Sorry I kinda shut down on you.”

 

“You have nothing to apologize for, Dean,” Cas is quick to reassure him. “If anyone is to blame, it’s me.”

 

Dean’s eyes blink open in complete shock, even more surprised to see guilty blue eyes staring back at him. Cas looks completely serious.

 

“What? Dude, that makes _no_ sense,” he says to Cas, letting his confusion leak through. Cas had been his only saving grace these last few days, so how the fuck did Cas think any of the bullshit was somehow his fault?

 

“I shouldn’t have let you leave,” Cas says like the words are physically painful. His grip tightens around Dean, his touch soothing and apologetic. “And I should’ve been there for you more. Your _car,_ Dean. I’m so sorry. If I was a better- stronger- Alpha I could’ve - ”

 

“ – Cas, stop,” Dean interrupts angrily, taking Cas’s face between both hands. Cas’s eyes are turned down, so he tilts his head up like Cas has done to him a million times. “That’s bullshit, man, and you know it. I’m going to completely throw out the ‘letting me leave’ part, because I wouldn’t have let you stop me. But that other shit? Cas…”

 

The words get clogged up in his throat when he thinks of everything Cas has done for him and the pup. And to his horror, he can feel tears stinging the corner of his eyes at the look of self-loathing he can see written all over Cas’s face. It’s a look he’s all too fucking familiar with, and it should be no where near someone as good as Castiel.

 

“Cas. I’ve never- I’ve never had someone like you,” he begins hoarsely, his heart fucking racing. “You’re always _there._ There is no friggin’ way you could’ve ‘been there for me more.’ You were there when I needed you, every single time I’ve needed you. And I know I might not act like the most grateful man in the world, but I really….I really appreciate it.”

 

“Dean…” Cas whispers up at him, but Dean places a single finger over his lips.

 

“Wait. I’m not done, Cas,” he murmurs quietly. “I don’t- don’t really know where the shit between me and you is going. I don’t. And that’s scary as hell, but if…down the road…you become my Alpha,” Cas gasps at his words, and he shivers as goosebumps zing up his spine, “I’d be the lucky one- not you, okay?”

 

“You’re wrong,” Cas says, but he’s smiling. Smiling so fucking big, now. “I’d be the luckiest person alive if I had the honor of being your mate, Dean. I’m luck to even have met you.”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean rolls his eyes, happy with the direction their heavy words have taken now, and leans forward to rub his nose against Cas’s. “We’re lucky- sappy- sons of bitches, huh?”

 

Cas kisses him then, the wet seal of his mouth over his own making him close his eyes and sigh into it, tangling his fingers into Cas’s hair so that Cas can’t pull away. He moans into Cas’s mouth when Cas lifts up a little, moving the knot inside him enough that pleasure courses through him again.

 

Oh fuck, he’d forgotten that they were kind of having sex. Both of them were pantless with shirts on, his legs were still on either side of Cas’s hips, and Cas’s knot was still pretty fucking hard inside him. How the hell had they had such a serious conversation?!

 

Cas smirks up at him and does it again, effectively ending their conversation, because apparently, emotions make Cas horny and Dean is all too down to go another round.

 

He wasn't lying to Cas when he'd told him he felt better now.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Classes are still kicking my ass, guys. But I'm still very much dedicated to this story, so don't give up on me! Love you friends!


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much fluff oh my god.

 

As soon as Cas’s knot catches he goes loose and pliant, Cas’s raspy breath tickling his ear as his hands splay possessively over Dean’s belly. Cas uses his hold on Dean to hold him closer to his body, all of Cas’s front tucked as closely to Dean’s back as possible. He feels like he should probably tell Cas to knock off all the possessive Alpha shit, but he’s too busy basking in it. It might be his guilty pleasure.

 

Dean closes his eyes and relaxes back into Cas, heart slowing down again as Cas’s fingers paint pictures across their pup with his fingertips.

 

It’s still pretty early, barely even eight yet, so he’s really hoping to go back to sleep. He’s really not sure who woke who up for a little morning sex, but now that his whole body feels this good, he can go right back to sleep. Well- fucked and content, he doesn’t realize how quickly he started to drift until Cas kisses his neck.

 

“Dean….” Cas whispers in his ear, kissing the flesh there as well and making Dean smile a little. Cas nuzzles his neck to scent him before he presses a trail of wet kisses all along his neck and shoulders and the back of his head while his fingers continue to touch and caress Dean’s stomach.

 

“Hmmm?” he mumbles back intelligently, eyes still heavy and closed.

 

Their sex life had increased since the car incident. Exponentially. And these days, with a little more than week until Christmas, they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Every single day, no matter what happened, they continue to get closer and closer. Emotionally and physically. It was all he could do to keep up; the pup continuing to grow inside him, working as much as he could, and touching Cas as much as possible. Since they both had the day off today, you better believe he was going to fucking sleep in for once.

 

“How do you feel…” Cas hesitates slightly, his breath coming hot against Dean’s skin. “Dean, how do you feel about possibly decorating the house for Christmas?”

 

His brain is already 90% asleep, but he can still hear the caution in Cas’s voice like he already knows what Dean is going to say. Cas thinks he’s gonna say no.

 

“Izz your house, man. Knock yourself out,” he thinks he manages to slur. If Cas’s laugh is anything to go by, he probably sounded like an idiot. Too bad he doesn’t care.

 

“Ok Dean, sleep now,” Cas whispers, tightening his hold around Dean.

 

And Dean is all too ready to comply. With Cas wrapped around him snuggly, he thinks he mumbles something about being the scrooge of the family before he falls under again.

 

It can’t be more than an hour when he’s rudely awakened again.

 

Cas is carefully trying to extricate himself from around Dean, knot having gone down and slipping out from between his legs, scooting slowly away from his back and taking al his heat with him.

 

“Where you going?” he grumbles sleepily, struggling to turn onto his back to see where Cas was headed.

 

He gets a good view of Cas’s perky ass before Cas is circling around the bed and bending over him, taking Dean’s face between his hands and kissing him tenderly.

 

“I’ll be right back. I just need to get a few things. Go back to sleep, I know you’re still tired,” Cas tells him quietly, probably unconsciously coaxing him back to sleep.

 

Dean’s hair is mussed from sleep and his cheeks are sleep warm and flushed. Green eyes look up at him, trusting and soft, and he’s very tempted to slip back into bed and repeat their morning activities. Dean’s scent this far into the pregnancy was driving his inner Alpha absolutely insane. It was actually almost painful to leave him right now, but they only had a small window of time and it needed to be done.

 

“Only if you bring me back a chocolate donut,” Dean murmurs seriously. “Otherwise, no deal.”

 

“With sprinkles?”

 

“Duh. How else am I supposed to rest knowing you’re not here?” Dean says, closing his eyes and turning his face into one of Cas’s palms.

 

Dean has become a lot more openly affectionate as of late, and it’s probably a big contributor as to why both their scents smell so happy and blissed out. The touches between them come freely and often now, as well as sweet words he knows Dean never would have spoken before. Their progress still stuns him.

 

“Sprinkles it is then,” he promises, ducking down to kiss Dean’s lips one more time before heading for the closet. He can still feel Dean’s eyes on him as he finds clothes and puts them on, but by the time he’s out the door, Dean is curled up on his side again with his arms wrapped around his belly, sound asleep.

 

Smiling at the sight, he decides this is going to be a fast trip. In and out. It’ll only take a couple hours, but even that’s too long to be away from Dean and their pup.

 

 

When he’s actually ready to face the day, ready to finally leave the warm cocoon that is his and Cas’s bed, he’s aware that it’s much later than he intended. It’s too bright, and it’s too _quiet._

 

Cas isn’t back then.

 

It’s weird, to miss someone when they’re not there. But then again, it was weird to have someone in his life that made him so goddamn happy all the time.

 

They had their road bumps of course, three in the last few weeks that stood out in particular, but after each of them he felt a little bit better or at least calmer.

 

The first one was after he finally got his hands on the stuff Missouri ordered for him to help with the scratching. She had sent it to him via Cas, and on top of this huge green bottle was a little folded over note with his name on the top of it in neat writing.

 

It said, “ _Dean, this will help with itching, stretch marks, and breastfeeding. Let me know if you want me to order more for you, honey!- Missouri.”_

Breastfeeding.

 

Cas had been cooking, so he’d missed Dean’s wide-eyed look of horror.

 

“But-but I don’t have boobs!” he exclaimed loudly, rereading the note again frantically as his fingers started to tremble. Cas turned and blinked at him, confused, and when Dean couldn’t force any more words out, he just shoved the note into Cas’s hands. Hopefully Cas could clear this up. Maybe it was a mistake.

 

His eyes had roved over the words quickly, brow furrowing before it cleared.

 

“Dean,” he said slowly, looking between the note and him. “Why are you upset?”

 

“What do- I mean- how could I not be upset!” he splutters, ripping the note back out of Cas’s hands. “Cas, only women have breasts. That’s why it’s called _breastfeeding._ How the fuck does she expect me to use this shit for it when I don’t have the right equipment?!”

 

Cas had stepped forward to take his hand, following when Dean moved to pull it away. His cheeks were starting to flush with the way Cas was looking at him, and from the dawning realization that he probably sounded crazy. All soft and understanding- what the fuck?

 

“Just as Omega males are capable of carrying children, they are also just as capable of breastfeeding, Dean,” Cas told him quietly, squeezing Dean’s hand gently and trying to catch Dean’s eye. “It doesn’t mean that you have to,” he hastened to reassure him when Dean’s eyes remained glued to the floor, “but your body _will_ ultimately change to accommodate for the baby.”

 

“You mean - ?” he left off, gesturing with his free hand in the general direction of his chest. Making the manly(grabby) universal sign for boobs now just felt wrong.

 

“Dean. Calm down,” Cas tried to soothe him. “I’m sure what you are imagining is not at all accurate. You’ve noticed your chest getting…softer, yes? And more sensitive?”

 

He nodded reluctantly. It’s true. He was a lot more pudgy than he used to be, but for whatever reason, he hadn’t put two and two together. Which was kind of sad- now that he thought back on it- because of how hugely pregnant he currently is.

 

“That’s normal,” Cas said, raising his hand to stroke over Dean’s cheek. “You will only get slightly larger. Nothing compared to what a woman should expect, and nothing to fret over, beautiful. Your body is just preparing to feed the pup, that’s all.”

 

“This is _not_ normal, dude,” Dean sighed, biting his lip. “Will- will they….go away?”

 

“Why don’t we read the chapter on in from the book you bought? We can do it together,” Cas offered hopefully, hating the insecurity and the embarrassment he could see all over Dean’s face. “We might even start from the beginning. That way we can limit all future surprises.”

 

“I guess so…” Dean trailed off awkwardly.

 

Cas had pulled him into a hug, coaxing Dean to scent at his neck for comfort, but that night before bed, they actually did it. Sat down with Cas’s head pillowed on his shoulder while they took turns reading aloud. It was kind of weird at first, especially when it was describing weird shit he’s never heard about, but it was also nice to think about the pup with Cas’s heat a solid wall of support right next to him.

 

After that first time, they kept at it when they could. Most nights they’d at least read a few pages or chapters together- and yes, the breastfeeding chapter was just as scary as he thought it would be- which took a little panic away from the whole being pregnant for the first time thing. It was relaxing, and Cas seemed to enjoy it too.

 

The second bump in the road happened at work.

 

He was sitting at his stupid fucking desk when a customer came over to stand in front of him. Dean was about to finish running numbers so his eyes were still downcast, but he could literally _feel_ the distain and disgust radiating from the man. Alpha then.

 

Gritting his teeth and forcing his eyes up while one hand protectively covered his bump, he’d tried to sound as polite as possible when he uttered the customary greeting, “Hi, what can I do for you today?”

 

“Hopefully nothing,” the man had sneered, displaying a row of crooked, decaying teeth. “I don’t want you or any other bitch touching my car. Get the manager for me, or I’ll take my business elsewhere.”

 

Breathing in a startled, angry breath, he was just about to stand up and give this asshole a piece of his mind- pregnancy fat pants and all- when a hand landed squarely on his shoulder.

 

Looking over his shoulder, he was surprised to find Bobby behind him, with a huge smile on his face. Bobby squeezed his shoulder in warning.

 

“That’d be me. How ‘bout we go take a look at your car and you can tell me what needs fixin’?”

 

The man narrowed his beady little eyes at Bobby but still nodded. Turning for the door, he didn’t wait for Bobby to follow him before walking briskly over to his car.

 

“Bobby, I - ”

 

“Shush,” Bobby smirked at him, lifting his eyebrows twice and winking. “Be right back.”

 

Bobby waltzed right out the door, leaving Dean confused and gaping after him. Was Bobby seriously going to help that douche bag? There was no fucking way Dean was doing the paper work or anything for him. Uh-uh. Bobby could do it his damn self if he was still willing to take this dude’s business.

 

But he got the answer to his question not two minutes later when he heard an angry shout followed by a chucking Bobby smirking his way back through the doors.

 

“Bobby, what’d you _do?”_

 

“What do you think, ya idjit? I threw his keys into the farthest bush I could find and told him to take a hike.”

 

Dean could feel the relieved smile starting at the corners of his lips. “You didn’t.”

 

“Of course I did,” Bobby rolled his eyes. “Nobody gets to talk ill of you in this garage and still expect a functioning vehicle. He’s lucky I was feelin’ merciful today.”

 

“Bobby…” he laughed, shaking his head and feeling warmth blossom in his chest for the old man, “You’re awesome.”

 

Bobby ducked his head, glaring at the floor. “You deserve respect, boy. Never settle for anything less. You’re too good for that.”

 

With a final pat to Dean’s back, he’d disappeared back into his office. The man hadn’t come back, and they didn’t bring it up again, but on the rare occasion a customer decided to make faces at Dean or treat him rudely, Bobby was always right there to step in before he could. Always with a smile and a wink. And then Dean would never see those faces again.

 

The third and most recent issue happened a little over four days ago.

 

It was late, way later than the time they usually turned in when he heard a buzzing sound and felt Cas slip out of bed from behind him. There was the sounds of Cas fumbling around before he finally managed to find the door and stop the buzzing noise.

 

“Hello? Michael- it’s 3am,” he heard Cas whisper crossly.

 

Blinking blurrily in the dark room, he held still to listen to Cas’s footsteps and his low whispers retreating farther and farther away.

 

“Yes I know. Yes. I understand that, but – ”

 

If he had to guess, that was Cas’s office door shutting out the rest of his sentence.

 

He waits in tired silence for Cas to come back, stroking his belly in the meantime, but the silence remains unbroken for too long. Too many minutes pass before he starts to think maybe something is wrong. It’s been about a half an hour and Cas still isn’t back.

 

Aside from their weekly(more like three times a week) skype calls with Sam and Jess, he doesn’t really remember Cas ever leaving to talk on the phone like this. And he’s absolutely certain that in all the time he’s known Cas, his brother Michael has never called him. Hopefully it wasn’t serious. But then again, why wouldn’t Cas come back to bed then?

 

It’s fucking freezing when he fights his way out of bed, too lazy to find a shirt, so he wraps his arms around himself and carefully feels his way to the door. Since he pretty much lives at Cas’s house these days, it’s actually not that hard to find his way to Cas’s office.

 

Tilting his head to listen outside the door, all that greets him is more silence.

 

Unsure of whether or not he should knock or just go in, he spends a few seconds shifting his weight from foot to foot in indecision before he carefully cracks the door enough to peek inside.

 

Cas is sitting at his desk, head bent and shoulders slumped, elbows resting on the desk while he holds his face with rigid fingers. The room smells of stress and frustration. But the scent that has him padding quietly into the room is Cas’s sadness. It’s heavy and bitter, filling up his nose and making it uncomfortable to breathe. He goes from tired and grumpy to alert and on edge in the span of a few seconds.

 

“Cas,” he says softly, hesitating for a second when Cas’s head snaps up in surprise.

 

Fuck, Cas must’ve been really upset if he hadn’t heard or scented Dean’s presence. But of course, as soon as he sees Dean, Cas’s face morphs into a fake smile, wiping all traces of his previous emotions off his face. Like he has to be strong for Dean.

 

“Dean. I’m sorry, did I wake you?” Cas says.

 

“Kind of. Are you alright?” he asks cautiously, rounding the desk so he can lean against it- close enough to Cas that he can touch him, but far enough to give Cas a little space.

 

“Yes, everything is fine,” Cas answered far too quickly, the lines around his eyes tightening. “It’s very late. We should go back to bed.”

 

“Why are you lying to me?”

 

“What? I’m not - ”

 

“You think you’re the only one who can sense when the other is upset, dude? Or what? You think I don’t care?”

 

“Dean, it’s nothing, I just….” Cas clenches his eyes closed and takes a huge breath in through his nose before he slumps back in his chair.

 

Dean doesn’t wait for Cas to open his eyes or find his words. Turning Cas’s chair a little, he turns around and supports himself with the arms of the chair to lower himself down. He can’t see Cas like this, but Cas must have realized what he’s doing and is trying to help. Hands settle around his waist, pulling him closer so that Dean is sitting sideways on Cas’s lap, and Dean can press his nose against Cas’s neck with a little effort.

 

Once he’s settled, he wraps his arms around Cas.

 

“Hey,” he whispers, nuzzling into Cas. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. Talk to me.”

 

“I- I it’s not a big deal, Dean. I didn’t want to trouble you with my trivial grievances,” Cas speaks quietly against the skin of Dean’s forehead. This close to Cas, the smell of sadness is much more potent.

 

“Let me decide if it’s a big deal or not, yeah? It’s obviously bugging you man, and I don’t like you smelling the way you do,” he says simply, wrinkling his nose pointedly and earning a half-hearted chuckle for his effort.

 

“C’mon little Alpha. It’s just me,” he whispers again, ghosting his lips over Cas’s pulse point before kissing the skin there. He tries to convey his concern and offer comfort through his scent like Cas does for him, but he’s not too sure it’s working.

 

Cas closes his eyes and sighs, his arms around Dean tightening infinitesimally.

 

“My brother called.” He mutters finally, after a long minute of Dean thinking Cas wasn’t going to answer after all.

 

“Yeah?” he questions like he doesn’t already know that. Cas needs to tell him. Cas needs him to listen.

 

“Yes. He… My brother and I have an…interesting relationship,” Cas begins haltingly. “We’ve never seen eye to eye. Michael never really saw eye to eye with any of our family actually, but out of the four of us, he seemed to tolerate me the most.”

 

Dean nods, knowing Cas can feel it, and slowly runs his fingers up Cas’s neck until he can weave his fingers through the soft hair at the base of his head.

 

“I didn’t realize until I was 18 why that was. You see…” Cas pauses, and when he starts back up again he can hear the pain in his voice that automatically has him clutching Cas closer. “My brother has a problem. It started many years ago, but I didn’t know about it until I had access to my inheritance.”

 

“Isn’t he older than you?”

 

“Yes. But Dean. There is something you should know…” Cas’s voice becomes hoarse, his words breaking a few times as he speaks now. “Despite my talk of family and the relationships I have with them, they are not my blood. My only family died when I was twelve, and I _found_ a new one some years later. Gabriel, Michael, and Luke. They are my foster brothers. And I love them. Love them fiercely. They were all I had before you and the pup.”

 

He sits back, shocked, but now Cas is the one holding him closer.

 

“I apologize for not telling you sooner,” Cas says with a note of desperation in his voice that fucking breaks Dean’s heart. “After losing Luke, it felt too soon to rehash old wounds. I can pretend all I want that I expected Luke’s death and that his passing had no impact on me, but that would be a lie.”

 

“Cas, it’s okay. I’m not mad,” Dean soothes. Cas’s arms locked around in a vice like grip, but he does his best to keep running his fingers through Cas’s hair. “You’re telling me now.”

 

“I wish I didn’t have to. This is not something I want anywhere near you or the pup,” Cas closes his eyes again, leaning into Dean. “Apparently enough time has passed between now and Luke’s death to reestablish old ways. Both Michael and Luke have occasionally asked me for money in the past, but I had hoped Michael had learned from Luke’s mistakes. I was wrong.”

 

“He called you to ask for money?” he asks softly.

 

“Yes,” Cas sighs, and Dean can see how much that one word hurts him.

 

“Is…Is he like Luke?” He’s afraid of the answer he’ll get, but this is important. He wants to know all the details so he can figure out a way to help. Luke died from an overdose. If Michael was anything like Luke, it’s no surprise that he would be looking for money.

 

“No. Not in the way that you are thinking. Michael has a gambling problem.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“I have told him multiple that I can’t support his addiction. I told them both, Dean. I want-want _ed_ to help. It killed me to deny him. And it pains me to deny Michael now.”

 

Soothing his fingers over the creases in Cas’s brow as he listens, he smells the hurt in Cas’s scent deepen. He kisses Cas’s forehead, feeling helpless. “You’re doing the right thing, Cas.”

 

“Am I?” Cas scoffs bitterly. “If that were so, then Luke would still be alive.”

 

“Hey,” Dean says sharply, tipping Cas’s chin up to look at him. “That was not your fault, Cas. You said it yourself- you tried to help him, but he chose a dangerous path. That was _his_ choice.”

 

“Once I told Michael no,” Cas says so quietly that Dean has to lean forward to hear him. “He implied that I was the reason for my brother’s death. That if I had just given in, Luke would still be alive. He was angry and desperate, but the words still feel true.”

 

Anger spikes through him paired with a protectiveness that surprises him. Who the _fuck_ could say something so awful to Cas?! _Cas._ Cas was probably the most selfless, kindest, gentlest person he’d ever met. If he ever met that asshole, he better watch his fucking back.

 

“Cas, _no,”_ he says firmly, taking Cas’s face between both hands now. “In no way, shape, or form is that true. I know you, okay? And _you_ know that’s not true. You did the best you could.”

 

Cas’s eyes become glassy, his face finally crumbling as the pain over takes him, and he allows Dean to tuck him under Dean’s head, holding him close and not letting go.

 

Dean’s still fucking livid at the ugly words of a stranger, but Cas needs his scent right now, undiluted. Anger won’t help him. Neither would sadness, and he feels them both. Cas has always been there for him, seeming to always know what he needs, so he’ll have to save the scathing remarks for another time.

 

“It’s okay, little Alpha. You’re doing the right thing,” he reassures him gently. There isn’t really anything else he can say. That’s some heavy shit. And of course, Cas _would_ try to shoulder it all by himself.

 

Cas lets himself be held for once, holding on tightly to Dean, but he doesn’t cry. Pretty sure he was just letting himself actually _feel._ As much as Dean bottles up his emotions, he knows now that Cas has been doing the same. Perhaps for different reasons of course, but Dean knew firsthand that sometimes you just needed to let that shit out.

 

Gradually, Cas’s scent calms down. And by the time he pulls away from their embrace some minutes later, he even manages a mostly genuine smile.

 

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas murmurs against Dean’s collarbone, sending chills up his spine that turn a lot more pleasant when Cas continues to mouth the surrounding area. His fingers find Cas’s hair again.

 

“Two-way street, man,” he says simply. “I got you, you got me, capisce?”

 

“I capisce,” Cas agrees solemnly.

 

Laughing lightly, he slides his feet to the ground and tries to sit up the best he can.

 

“Shit, sorry. I must be crushing you,” he says ruefully, reaching for the desk as leverage to pull himself up.

 

Cas’s hands are immediately there to help him up.

 

“You’re not, but we really should go back to bed. It’s past four,” Cas tells him, wrapping an arm around Dean’s waist and turning out his light.

 

They’d waddled together all the way back to bed, Cas taking extreme caution to lead Dean back safely, and both their scents were almost completely back to normal by the time Cas took up his usual position curled behind Dean’s back.

 

“You okay?” he’d mumbled in a tired rasp.

 

“Yes, I think I am.”

 

“It’s alright if you’re not, though.”

 

Cas kissed the back of his neck. “Sleep.”

 

And that was the end of it. The next day they talked about it a little bit, discussed what Cas would do if Michael called again, but Cas didn’t get upset this time. Disappointed and a little frustrated yes, but Dean couldn’t scent any sadness on him, which he counted as a success.

 

Groaning when the pup places a well aimed kick to his bladder, he takes that as a sign that his time in bed is officially over.

 

“Okay, okay,” he murmurs, rubbing his stomach as he gets to his feet. “I’m going, you little slave driver. I’m up.”

 

The pup kicks again- the movements much more pronounced then before- and he rolls his eyes. Then grimaces when he takes a step forward. He was disgustingly wet back there and he’s pretty sure that’s not all…him.

 

A shower it is then.

 

“Guess it’s just you and me this morning, little guy,” he sighs, side-eying the door longingly. “Hopefully that other dude you like will be home by the time we get out,” the pup kicks him like he understands and agrees. “And he better get us that fucking donut, right? Right. Or else I’m gonna tell him how active you’ve been this morning, and he’ll be really jealous,” he smirks, patting his belly conspiratorially.

 

Whenever the pup started moving Cas was right fucking there. While sometimes it annoyed the shit out of him, it was times like these that he kinda missed it.

 

….boy he was becoming such a sap.

 

It was the pup’s fault. That’s his excuse and he’s sticking with it.

 

“You’ll pay for this one day,” he promises his bump after his shower. He has to slather on the lemon oil stuff Missouri gave him right after he bathes, so he continues to speak softly to his pup as he rubs the slippery stuff over his stomach and stretch marks, over his hips, and his chest. “Probably when you go through puberty. Or when you bring home your first date,” he chuckles fondly at the thought, “Sounds about right. I’ll tell them all about how you liked to wake me up by kicking me. Or how you kick extra hard when Cas talks to you.”

 

At the mention of Cas, he stops moving, listening for any sign of movement in the house.

 

There’s a loud scraping sound, like something is being dragged across the wood floors, and then a few moments later, the tinkle of bells. That’s gotta be Cas.

 

Finishing quickly and pulling on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, he creeps cautiously down the hallway. There’s foot steps and the sound of plastic bags being shifted and rifled through, and then he sees it.

 

A real fucking Christmas tree right in the middle of the living room. At least as tall as him, and looking freshly cut. Cas is sweating, hands on his hips and out of breath, staring at this thing like they just went two rounds.

 

“Cas,” he says through a big ass grin. “What the hell?”

 

He can’t remember the last time he had a Christmas tree made out of anything other than plastic. Last year, he and Lisa hadn’t even bothered. It had just been the two of them, and getting a tree- even a plastic one- seemed pointless. He’d actually been relieved that Lisa had agreed to go sans tree.

 

But now the only thing he feels is excitement.

 

“You said I could decorate. And what is Christmas without a Christmas tree?” Cas smirks, coming over and hugging Dean from behind as Dean looks at it. He leans back into Cas’s arms, tilting his head to the side to let Cas scent him greedily.

 

“You smell like a pine tree, dude,” he laughs, wrapping his arms around Cas’s.

 

“That’s because this tree decided to be intentionally difficult,” Cas murmurs in exasperation. “I probably should have chosen a smaller tree.”

 

“No. This one looks good,” Dean disagrees, feeling potent joy threatening to spill over inside him.

 

“I purchased ornaments and lights…would you like to help me decorate the tree?” Cas asks, sounding shy all of a sudden.

 

He turns his head to kiss Cas’s nose. “That depends.”

 

“On?”

 

“Whether or not you brought me back a donut.”

 

Cas throws his head back in laughter, making Dean’s smile even bigger.

 

“Yes, Dean,” he laughs, smiling that gummy smile at Dean as readjusts his hold so that his arms wind around Dean’s huge belly. “I even remembered the sprinkles. I left them in the car. Why don’t you get started and I’ll go get those for you?”

 

“Sounds good. Wait - ” he clutches at Cas when Cas moves to step away. Cas looks at him questioningly, but Dean grips him by the front of his jacket and pulls him in for a quick kiss. There’s heat, and happiness, and _mate_ that sings between them, a sweet something that has them both smiling when they break apart.

 

Cas even pinches his ass before he leaves.

 

When he comes back in carrying a familiar pink box, there is more kisses to be had. He eventually gets Cas to eat one with him- a circle one with chocolate frosting, red and green sprinkles covering the top of it- and then the sugar high takes over.

 

Cas unwraps a skirt for the tree and they’re off. They start with the lights, passing them between them as they wrap the strands around the tree from the bottom up. At first Cas doesn’t actually let him help, telling him to wait until he doesn’t have to bend over so far before he can step in. But after too many eye rolls to count and a couple well aimed pokes, Cas relents.

 

He refuses to let Dean stand on the stool to finish wrapping the tree, but that was his only veto. Now that the lights are done, they open bunch of the plastic boxes Cas bought containing ornaments of all kinds of shapes and colors.

 

“Holy shit, Cas, did you buy all they had?” he asks incredulously, looking around at what has to be at least a hundred or so bulbs.

 

“Dean, Christmas is in less than two weeks,” Cas tells him like it’s obvious. “Of course I bought all they had.”

 

Cracking up and shaking his head, he reaches over to grab a bite of his fourth donut and then offers it to Cas who takes a distracted bite and quickly turns back to his task of figuring out how to get the star to light up. The two of them probably look fucking ridiculous right now, acting like kids decorating for their first Christmas, but he really could not care less. This is what happiness feels like.

 

And this is only their first Christmas together. This time next year, their pup would be with them and they’d be like a real family.

 

When the tree is completely done- ornaments on every other branch- and the star lit up on top, they stand together again as they had earlier. Cas wrapped around him from behind as they look at their masterpiece, two matching smiles and two matching scents.

 

He wants to capture this moment in time.

 

“We _gotta_ send a picture of this to Sam, man,” he smiles. Fucking perfect excuse. He’s actually pretty proud of himself. “It’s too awesome not to.”

 

“I couldn’t agree more,” Cas nips at his neck.

 

“Hey, hey, hey,” he warns, taking a step forward. “None of that. Picture. I already showered today. You had your fun this morning.”

 

“If I remember correctly, you were also having a lot of _fun_ , Dean,” Cas smirks, following right on his heels.

 

“Oh, shut up,” he growls mockingly. “Get your damn phone out and take the picture. My camera sucks ass.”

 

“I know somebody who likes when I suck - ”

 

“ – CAS. Do you ever shut your mouth?” Dean laughs, slapping a hand over Cas’s mouth. He’s immediately rewarded with a wet tongue lathing over his fingers. “Real mature, man.”

 

Cas crowds in super close behind him with the tree at their back. But right when Cas raises his iphone, Cas takes him by surprise and tilts his head for a kiss. Closing his eyes and sighing into it, he forgets about the phone for a second and just kisses Cas. He’s surprised by the fucking butterflies that still flutter in his stomach.

 

“C’mon Cas, the picture,” he reminds Cas, a little breathless, even more so when dark blue looks back at him.

 

“Of course, Dean.”

 

“Fuck. And here I thought I would never be on the business side of a selfie…”

 

“Smile, beautiful. This is for _Sam,_ right?”

 

“….right.”

 

Cas totally sees through his bullshit, but if Cas isn’t going to directly call him out, then he’s gonna keep going with it.

 

Holding his arm all the way out and slightly up, they both smile into the camera, big and fucking cheesy, with Cas pretty much plastered to his back.

 

“There. I think you got it,” Dean says.

 

“I think I did too, let me look.”

 

What they got is mostly a picture of the two- _three_ of them- as Dean’s belly seemed to be the star of the picture with the tree acting as a nice background. Holy _shit_ had he gotten big.

 

“Awell. Good enough. Send it,” he tells Cas firmly, knowing that Cas has Sam’s number. “And uh…Could you send it to me too?”

 

“Yes, I will.”

 

They lay on the couch admiring their work for a little, giving Dean’s back a rest, but eventually Dean finds his way to his feet again. All this decorating reminded him that he seriously needs to find a friggin’ gift for Cas. He’d looked in several places of course, but nothing had really stood out. Nothing had been good enough. He was determined to find something, and today was the day. Plus, he needed to stop by the MAT/PAT store anyway, so he could start in that area.

 

“Cas, I’m gonna go run a few errands real quick,” he says cautiously, narrowing his eyes when Cas immediately looks alarmed.

 

He wasn’t the only one effected by what happened a few weeks ago. Cas was even more protective of him now than he was before. But as soon as his baby was good as new again, he made sure he stressed his need to be independent to Cas. He wouldn’t be reckless or stupid, and he wouldn’t break. Cas had understood of course, but more often then not, Cas would just ask to come with him anyway. It was an Alpha thing, and he tried not to begrudge him too much.

 

But this was a Dean thing. Sometimes he just needed to get behind the wheel and fucking _drive._ Or you know, Christmas shop. Whatever came first.

 

“Alright. You should probably eat something more than donuts before you leave though,” Cas smiles half-heartedly, nodding toward the kitchen.

 

“I’ll grab something on the road. I shouldn’t be gone too long though,” he pecks Cas on the top of his head, walking over to the bedroom to change real quick and grab his keys.

 

Cas is waiting over by the door when he emerges.

 

“Cas,” he rolls his eyes. “Stop making me feel like a cheating husband. I’ll be right back.”

 

“Just wanted to help you with your coat, Dean,” Cas insisted innocently. He holds up Dean’s coat as proof when Dean scoffs. “It’s freezing out and you seem to be running cold during your pregnancy.”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean grumbles. But he still lets Cas help him put on his jacket. And another one. And his scarf. And his fucking beanie of course.

 

“No Cas,” he says as he finally shoves the Alpha’s fingers away. “I’m not wearing ear muffs.”

 

“But Dean - ”

 

“No.”

 

He stands on his tip toes, belly pressing against Cas’s front, and kisses Cas’s forehead. Not waiting for another ridiculous reason to be stalled, he opens the door and steps out, waving with only a little difficulty through all his layers at Cas.

 

Yep. Cas’s Christmas gift needs to be fucking perfect.

 

 

 

 

Even his sweaters were becoming a tight fit.

 

He was hoping to find a few that had a little more give in them before Christmas, so here he was. Going through hanger after hanger, going through increasingly ugly Christmas sweaters that he refused to look twice at.

 

He had standards, okay?

 

He’s just found one and is about to hold it up against him to see if it’s big enough when a voice behind him has him freezing.

 

“ _Dean?!”_

 

Although he doesn’t immediately recognize the voice, it sounds familiar and decidedly feminine. Turning in what feels like slow motion, his shock is perfectly mirrored in the face staring back at him.

 

Holy shit.

 

Out of all the crazy scenarios he’d first imagined when he started showing, he’d never thought of this one. He’d never thought he’d run into one of his exes. Especially not his ex that this time last year, he’d been living with.

 

Fucking fear and embarrassment quickly fill the air around him.

 

The whole time they’d been dating she’d thought he was a beta.

 

“Lisa?” he breathes.

 

He’s not the only one who’s showing either, adding another level of weirdness to it all. She looks a little earlier than him, but definitely expecting.

 

“It _is_ you. Holy _shit,”_ she laughs breathlessly, “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

 

He’s fucking relieved that she’s laughing instead of being disgusted or angry, but he still finds it fucking difficult to find words. “I. I uh- I’m. God.”

 

“Dean, it’s okay,” she smiles at him, still looking more than a little shocked, but seems to be trying to hide it. “You look great.”

 

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” he mutters under his breath.

 

He hands automatically cradle his belly, one hand on top , one hand on bottom, and he almost loses his shit when Lisa does the same. This is too weird.

 

She looks up at him with those concerned brown eyes he’d always loved. He misses blue.

 

“Dean, breath,” she says, waving a hand in front of his face to get his attention.

 

He takes in a huge breath, but it doesn’t really help settle his panic.

 

“How is this okay?” Dean gasps. “How are you so calm right now? We’re both _pregnant.”_

 

“Well I can’t wait to tell my mate that one of my exes is pregnant, that’s for sure,” she smirks. She laughs when Dean rolls his eyes, but then looks at him more seriously. “But I guess I’m calm because I could smell you from across the store. And I’m a _beta._ You smell like happiness, Dean. I’ve never smelled anything like it.”

 

His cheeks flush, turning the back of his neck and ears bright red as well, but he still smiles a little bit at her words.

 

“Ahh. There we go,” she says, ducking to catch his eyes. “No more fear. What did you think, I was going to yell at you?”

 

“Kind of?”

“I don’t think so, Dean. Yeah I’m a little miffed that you didn’t tell me, but how could I be seriously angry when we both are obviously where need to be? And who we need to be with.”

 

“So… you found your mate,” he says softly.

 

“And you found yours,” she smiles at him.

 

He doesn’t correct her. It would be too complicated. So he just nods.

 

“How far along are you?” she asks after a minute.

 

“Uh…” this was so fucking weird. “I just hit the six month mark yesterday.”

 

“Oh my gosh, that’s awesome! I’m twenty weeks tomorrow!” she says excitedly. “Do you know the sex yet?!”

 

“I don’t. When we went in for the ultrasound, the pup had it’s legs crossed.”

 

“What a stinker. Guess it’ll be just like you then,” Lisa giggles. “I’m having a boy. Benjamin. My mate thought it was a little early to name him, but Ben just sounds right.”

 

“Ben,” he repeats. “That’s a good name.”

 

“Yeah,” she agrees, and then, “Would it be weird if I hugged you? It’s been a long time, Dean, and under the circumstances…”

 

This was so fucking new. Technically he knew every inch of her skin, what she liked and didn’t like in bed, her scar on her shoulder, her laugh. He knew Lisa like the back of his hand. Yet it felt like he was meeting her for the first time.

 

“Yeah, Lis, come here,” he says softly, opening his arms for her to step closer.

 

But when they get within hugging distance, their bellies bump and block them.

 

“Wow. That just happened,” Dean shook his head in disbelief while Lisa laughed again. This was fucking surreal.

 

“We tried. It’s the thought that counts, I guess,” Lisa shakes her head fondly.

 

He squeezes her hands for a second.

 

He’s actually glad he ran into her. Glad he gets to keep a friendship he was sure he’d have to burn after she found out he was an omega. The situation they were in was strange, but in a good way. Lisa was a good person, and he didn’t know why he’d doubted her in the first place.

 

“So what were you looking for?” she interrupts his musings. Looking around the store before her eyes settle on him again. “Anything I can help you with? I come here all the time. It’s the only place that sells maternity clothes that aren’t ugly as hell.”

 

He huffs a laugh, but then he remembers the purpose of this little shopping trip.

 

“Actually…” he hesitates, wondering if this is pushing the boundaries a little bit. “Maybe not here, but I am looking for something to get Ca- I mean my _mate,”_ he corrects himself, the word sounding foreign in his mouth, “something for Christmas. It needs to be something special. Got any ideas?”

 

A beautiful smile lights up her face.

 

“I think I’ve got just the thing.”

 

 

 

 

After a brief stop at his apartment to stow away Cas’s gift, he finally arrives back at home. He’d been gone a lot longer than he’d originally intended so hurries inside.

 

It’s only around seven o’clock but all the lights in the house are off.

 

Except for the tree and the random strands of Christmas lights Cas must’ve hung up along with long strands of garland and fake snow. With the Christmas lights on, there’s a merry sort of glow about the house that has him smiling and shaking his head. Trust Cas to go about making this house look like Christmas in the span of a couple of hours. What he’d done was pretty friggin’ magical, and he could feel his own excitement for the holidays grow because of it.

 

Shutting the door as quietly as possible and locking it behind him, he goes on the search for a certain Alpha.

 

He finds Cas sitting up in bed, covers up to his waist, with a book in his hand.

 

“What about Daniel?” Cas asks without looking up. “It might actually be a perfect combination of our names.

 

Along with _What to Expect While Expecting_ , they’d also been skimming through a book of baby names Cas had picked up from the store. Every once in a while they’d throw out names- for boys and girls- and they’d play around with them.

 

He smiles softly at Cas. Climbing up on the bed and turning onto his side, he lays down with his head in Cas’s lap, closing his eyes when one of Cas’s hands immediately work it’s way through his hair.

 

“I like it. What else you got?”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really should be studying for my finals....awell. Hopefully I'll some of you at Seacon next week! I'm PUMPED.


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, guys. I've been in a funk.

 

 

“You have to be fucking _joking._ ”

 

Ripping his fingers away from the crinkled red and white wrapping paper, he snarls in frustration when the tape that is still stuck to his fingertips just follows right along with him, tearing the thin paper even more than before.

 

“Ok. Guess you’re not joking,” he sighs to himself. “You win this round, fucker.”

 

Three knocks at the door have him straightening up and grabbing the stupid gift in front of him in a hurry. He’s ready to whip this shit behind his back if he sees that door open even an inch. After all his effort- failed effort, but still- no one was getting a sneak peek tonight.

 

“No,” he yells, aiming his deadliest glare at the door, hoping the person on the other side will somehow feel it and back off. “Stay out. I’m not done yet.”

 

The _or else_ is implied.

 

Momentary silence.

 

And then, “Dean…”

 

“No, Cas,” he says firmly. “Give me 15,” he glances down at the red and white disaster and thinks better of it. “At least.”

 

“Sam and Jessica have already retired to their bedroom, and it’s almost midnight,” Cas grumbles, and Dean can just imagine those eyebrows furrowed together in Cas’s version of a pout. “Wouldn’t you agree that we should also go to sleep?”

 

“ _After_ I finish wrapping my presents,” Dean insists. He’s still very aware of the book in his hand that is supposed to be going to the man right outside the bedroom, and he can’t relax knowing Cas could very easily ignore him. It’s gotta be special, goddammit.

 

“Christmas is tomorrow, Dean. What is the point of wrapping them now when the wrapping paper will only take up residence in the garbage in merely a few hours?”

 

“Blame stupid Christmas traditions then, whatever, but I still need fifteen minutes. Go eat more cookies or something,” he snickers vindictively.

 

Since he had a hand in frosting the damn things, there was an over abundance of white frosting piled high on each cookie, and on top of that, _way_ too many colorful sprinkles. He pretty much made it so that no one would eat the cookies but him, a fact Cas pretended not to resent. While Dean’s sweet tooth had definitely gotten worse with the pregnancy, he saw Cas lick clean a whole spoonful of cookie dough when he’d thought no one looking, shooting a guilty look at Dean when he’d heard Dean’s laugh.

 

“Fifteen minutes,” Cas warns, but Dean can hear the smile in his voice. “I’ll be waiting in the living room.”

 

That’s where he would’ve gone too, if their roles were reversed.

 

Since it’s currently Christmas eve, the house is now completely decorated and lit up to resemble those houses on the hallmark channel in Christmas movie. That bad(not that he watched the hallmark channel or anything). But since the tree that he and Cas decorated is in the living room, that’s where the two of them seem to gravitate when they have a spare minute.

 

It’s still fucking beautiful a week and a half later, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t have about a hundred different pictures of it at different angles and times saved to his phone.

 

He smiles to himself and kind of regrets sending Cas away.

 

Okay. Fifteen minutes. He can do this.

 

As he carefully begins folding a brand new sheet of the same god awful wrapping paper, his mind still lingers on Cas. That butterflies in your stomach-heart feeling three times too big for your chest-my face hurts from smiling too much-feeling has yet to go away. And with the combination of Cas, Sam, and Jess, the feeling has only gotten that much stronger.

 

Sam and Jess had arrived three days ago, and since then they’d been go go go on a mission to have the most Christmassy Christmas that has ever was christmased.

 

They did something different everyday-saw a movie, went out to dinner or lunch or breakfast, went Christmas shopping, visited Cas’s work, went Christmas light looking for christ’s sake- or just stayed in and gathered around Cas’s impressive fireplace to watch an old Christmas movie.

 

The days leading up till now were easily some of the best days of his life.

 

Even the odd looks he seemed to attract everywhere he went didn’t take away from them at all. Since he was constantly with his three favorite people, he ignored it for once and let himself enjoy his rare time away from the house and work. So what if he was huge? The people in his life were _excited_ for the baby. And so was he.

 

Now all that was left before the big holiday was this last present. Cas’s present.

 

With Lisa’s advice where to go but not which was best to buy, he’d picked it out especially for Cas. He’s still a little self-conscious about the thing, so this shit has at least got to _look_ perfect. That way, Cas could at least say, “Wow Dean, this is aesthetically pleasing,” while thinking _I hope he kept the receipt._

 

When he finally tapes the last corner down in some form of a straight line, his smile of triumph is short lived before the door is opening and Cas is walking in with an expectant smile.

 

And he knows exactly the next words that are going to come out of that mouth.

 

“Fifteen minutes are u- Dean,” Cas takes hasty steps towards him, “Why are you sitting that way? On the _ground?_ Your back - ”

 

He’s too used to Cas fretting over his every move to do anything other than roll his eyes and smirk up at him. “You’re lucky I’m actually finished, and I’m fine. Just needed a flat surface or these woulda looked a lot shittier,” he nods to the three presents now completely wrapped and ribboned. Not too shabby.

 

It was a little difficult trying to see around his stomach, but after a little maneuvering he had gotten the hang of it. Job well done, if did say so himself.

 

“Well- you should not be putting so much strain on your - ”

 

“Uh-uh Cas, don’t you dare,” he cuts in when Cas bends down and starts to get him up. “Can do it myself. Me and pup have got this shit down by now.”

 

“Dean I -”

 

“If you touch me, your dick is well in range of a solid punch buddy, and I happen to like your dick.”

 

Cas looks down at him, considering him seriously for a minute, before deciding he’s serious and taking a cautious step backwards that Dean knows won’t last while watching Dean struggle to his feet. Self-preservation is one thing, but this is Cas. This is a very familiar dance for them, and Cas is still reluctantly learning the steps.

 

“Smart choice,” he smiles reassuringly up at Cas. It must suck to be such a worry wart. He adds a wink before carefully rolling onto his knees with his back to Cas.

 

Feeling Cas’s stress is enough without actually having to see it as well. And yep- there goes that extra step. Cas hovers the entire time as he braces himself against the bed frame and slowly pushes himself to his feet. His knees and back are a little sore from the way he was sitting criss-crossed and hunched over, but that’s easily ignorable. When he’s steady on his feet he immediately turns to find Cas again, grabbing a fistful of that crazy hair of his and pulling his scrunched up face to meet his own for a kiss.

 

His bump only makes it a little difficult.

 

“Hi,” Dean breathes when he pulls away, meeting sparkling blue eyes and a fucking smile that’s all his own.

 

“Hello Dean,” Cas says quietly in response, arms winding around Dean’s back and pulling him closer. “Your scent suggests that you are happy.”

 

“I am happy, you dork,” he laughs. “And now that I got your stupid gift wrapped - ”

 

“You didn’t need to get me anything, Dean - ”

 

“ – we can finally do the whole Christmas thing. What time is it anyway?” he asks curiously, effectively ignoring Cas’s comment. Of course he needed to get Cas something. He’d never given a thought to _not_ getting him something. It just took a little time to figure out what that something would be.

 

Cas sighs and starts to pull him towards the bed. “Last I checked it was 11:25.”

 

“Damn. We’re usually knocked out like an hour ago,” Dean smirks. Seeing Cas’s impatience to get him in bed just makes him want to stall that much longer. He resists Cas’s pull, digging his heels a little to pull back. “Surprisingly, I’m not really tired.”

 

Cas flashes a look at him that makes him stop though, stepping towards Cas in concern. “Hey,” he says softly, reaching up to grab either side of Cas’s face when he looks like he might turn away. “What’s up?”

 

Cas turns to lightly kiss Dean’s palm before he closes his eyes. “It’s nothing. Just feeling a little…sentimental I guess you could say.”

 

“Yeah? About what?” he coaxes, letting his fingers lightly trace the shape of Cas’s lips.

 

“You. The pup. Us. Tomorrow- almost today,” Cas breathes like he’s scared Sam and Jess might hear. “I realize that the pup will add an element of newness next year, but right now, _this-_ this will be our first Christmas. Together.”

 

Shit. When he put it like that.

 

“So what you’re saying is that we should be sleeping while we can? While we’re not currently being woken up by the sound of a screaming, angry baby every few hours?” he tries to joke, but even the words have nerves suddenly flooding his throat.

 

Even more so at the feeling of Cas’s hands slowly making there way from around his back to the swell of his stomach in between them. It’s moments like this that it all feels _really_ real. He’s carrying his and Cas’s baby. They’re doing this thing together. This is his life.

 

“What I’m _saying_ ,” Cas backtracks quickly, “Is that I’m apprehensive as well as excited concerning tomorrow’s festivities. Poorly articulated I admit, but as you often tell me, I’m not the best with words.”

 

“I think you got us confused,” he whispers, tilting his head to the right as Cas leans in to scent at his neck while his fingers continue to stroke his stomach. Absently, he lets his fingers tangle loosely in Cas’s hair, the long strands soft against his skin, just as soothing as the brush of Cas’s lips against his neck. “I’m the one who is emotionally constipated.”

 

Cas snorts a laugh into the base of his throat, which he pretends is _not_ at all ticklish.

 

“I think we’ve earned the right to share that title,” Cas says wryly.

 

“Agree to disagree?” Dean hedges. “Weren’t we just talking about your fear of Christmas and everything associated with it?”

 

Dean can almost _feel_ Cas’s eyes roll. “Hardly,” Cas scoffs but then quiets. “I just…want it to be special. Or at least be an adequate reflection of the way our lives are right now.”

 

“Reflection of what?” he asks in confusion. It was getting too late for any kind of deep conversation.

 

“I don’t know exactly,” Cas explains softly. “We’ve made so much progress, you and I. Is it too much to ask that tomorrow be perfect? My life is feels that way right now, anyway.”

 

He’s glad can’t see his face right now, and more importantly, his eyes, which are most certainly _not_ becoming glassy. “’I’m not the best with words-’ that’s _bullshit,_ Cas,” he manages hoarsely. “You’re just playing me.”

 

Cas’s hands wind themselves around his waist again. “I have no idea what you are referring to, Dean,” Cas pulls back enough so that Dean catches a glimpse of his smirk.

 

Two can play at that game.

 

He goes in for the kill. Tilting is head slightly, he captures Cas’s lips in his, only waiting a beat before deepening it. Slowly, he slides his tongue along Cas’s- feeling a thrill of triumph when Cas’s fingers tighten possessively around him- and lets the languid slide replace any need for words.

 

When Cas pulls back and rests his forehead against Dean’s, ignoring for now, the subtle scent of arousal, he tugs at the front of Cas’s shirt.

 

“C’mon. Bed,” he sighs reluctantly. “I bet I’m not the only one feeling it right now.”

 

“You would be correct,” Cas agrees, following on Dean’s heels as he makes his way to his side of the bed.

 

But when Cas starts to crawl around him to his own side, Dean reaches out a hand to stop him. His face feels a little hot, but he’s determined to get the words out. “Wait. Uh- can we…like when I hurt my back?”

 

Confusion clouds Cas’s face for all but a second before it smooths out into something much softer. “Of course, Dean,” he smiles, changing direction and moving behind Dean.

 

Dean leans forward as much as he’s able to, allowing Cas the space to get comfortable- probably stuffing all of their(many) pillows behind him- before letting Cas pull him gently back against him.

 

It takes a little shifting, made all the more difficult by his increased circumference and weight, but by the time they find the perfect angle for Dean’s head to fit against Cas’s shoulder, his eyes are already drifting closed and the rhythmic strokes against the bare skin of his stomach have him relaxed and practically boneless.

 

He can feel Cas whisper something against his forehead before there is a gentle pressure, but he’s too far gone to even hope to distinguish the words. It’s fine. He’ll just have to remember to ask Cas about it tomorrow.

 

 

 

 

 

There’s something heavy in his arms. Its weight is unfamiliar, like he’s never held anything even remotely similar to it before. When he looks down to get a better look at whatever it is, it _moves._

Tightening his hold on the thing instinctively, he realizes he’s holding a bundle, wrapped in what looks like a very large, scratchy, white blanket.

 

It’s not until the thing in his arms starts to cry that he realizes what it is.

 

It can’t be.

 

His heart starts to race- the sound of it roaring in his ear, almost loud enough to drown to the sounds of it’s high pitched wailing- and with a shaking hand, he reaches to pull away the blanket to get a glimpse at his baby’s face. It doesn’t move, and right when he starts to panic- _oh god, it’s going to suffocate-_ he sees movement out of the corner of his eye.

 

“Cas,” he breathes in abject relief. “Help me!”

 

Cas just stares at him, unmoving, face completely blank as he stands across from him.

 

“Cas?” he says desperately, starting to rock the thing in his arms in hopes of calming it. Obviously if it’s crying, it’s breathing. Cas will know what to do.

 

“I’m sorry, Dean,” Cas finally speaks, but he doesn’t look sorry at all. “I can’t do this anymore.”

 

Dean swears his heart stops beating.

 

“What?” he croaks, abandoning his attempt at rocking the baby. The baby’s cries stop as soon as he does, and the silence is deafening. This can’t be happening. “Cas what are you - ”

 

“I thought there would be more. I thought _you_ would be more,” Cas sighs, and Dean can see the disappointment in his eyes. “But I was wrong, Dean. So incredibly wrong to think you could change.”

 

“Cas, please,” Dean hears himself beg. But inside he’s going numb, shutting down completely at all his suspicions finally being proven right. He knew it was too good to be true.

 

“You aren’t enough. And I see now that you will _never_ be enough,” Cas says through a little smile that’s sure to haunt him for the rest of his life. “I’m leaving.”

 

“Cas, wait - ” he chokes. The words die on his tongue when his arms suddenly become empty. He stares down at his empty arms in horror. “No. No. Not my - ”

 

A laugh has his head whipping up to watch Cas’s retreating back, and even with his back turned, Dean can easily see the white bundle tucked away safely in his arms.

 

“That was too easy. Omegas were born to be parents, Dean,” he throws over his shoulder carelessly. “And you couldn’t even do that right. Go back to pretending to be something you are so clearly not, I’m sure you’ll be better at it.”

 

He wants to scream, to yell, to fucking beg if he has to, but his mouth won’t open. He can’t move, he can’t even _breathe._

“Goodbye, Dean.”

 

 

 

 

 

He comes to gasping for breath, disoriented by the dark room for a full minute before he gathers his bearings.

 

_It was a dream._ He’s at Cas’s house, in their bed, with Cas asleep behind him.

 

Closing his eyes against the terror he can still feel tugging away at his chest, he tucks his nose against Cas’s neck to scent him, fucking relieved he didn’t wake Cas up for once.

 

God, that was horrible.

 

Cas’s arms must’ve fallen away from him in his sleep, so he very carefully grabs his wrists on either side of him to lead them to rest over the peak of his stomach. Just as carefully, he wraps his own around Cas’s to hold them in place.

 

It was a dream.

 

Cas said his life was close to perfect. Cas wouldn’t lie to him. He would know.

 

A low whisper startles him into opening his eyes. “Dean.”

 

He presses his face closer to Cas’s neck. He doesn’t want to answer.

 

“Dean, is everything alright?” Cas murmurs hoarsely, and just the sound of it makes him feel a teensy bit better.

 

It’s fine. Cas isn’t gonna leave him. Cas cares about him. He’s being ridiculous.

 

“Shhhh,” he breathes as quiet as he can against Cas’s throat. He’s not letting go of Cas’s arms any time soon.“S’fine. Go back to sleep.”

 

“Mmmmm,” Cas hums in ascent.

 

He squeezes Dean quickly and then goes lax again, his soft breathing evening out and eventually lulling Dean back to sleep right along with him.

 

It was just a dream.

 

 

 

 

The sound of footsteps creaking on wooden floors right outside the door pulls him out of a deep sleep. He doesn’t want to open his eyes yet- sleep is just too good. But the footsteps stop, if he had to guess, he’d say inches from the door itself.

 

He slits one eye open to look at it in challenge, but no ones knocks.

 

“Whoever that is, we’re not buying,” he calls sternly. “Go away.”

 

Cas mumbles something, and holds him closer, rubbing his sleep flushed face against the side of Dean’s face. “Cas agrees, and the ‘fuck you’ is implied.”

 

“Dean,” Cas sighs in tired exasperation.

 

“C’mon guys,” his brother’s annoyingly chipper voice comes from the other side of the door. “It’s Christmas. And we let you guys sleep in long enough. This time next year you’ll be grateful to sleep in past 6.”

 

“The ‘fuck you’ is more than just an implication now.”

 

“Get up!” Jess giggles. “Don’t make us come in there!”

 

“And see me in all my naked, pregnant glory?” he nudges Cas, smirking when Cas smiles and rolls his eyes indulgently. “Be my guest. Cas might kill you, though. He’s jealous like that.”

 

“Oh god,” Sam mutters, “didn’t need that mental imagery. Thanks a lot.”

 

“Merry Christmas!” Dean calls smugly. “That’s all I got you, so now I can go back to sleep.”

 

“We’ll be out in a few minutes,” Cas corrects him. “Why don’t you get the coffee going while you wait?”

 

“You got it!” Jess agrees.

 

They wait until both sets of footsteps are out of hearing distance before moving. Dean; to attempt his long-winded get up, Cas; to pull him backwards again.

 

“What are - ”

 

His words are cut off with a kiss. Half smile, half kiss that is.

 

“Merry Christmas, Dean,” Cas breathes against his lips.

 

And now it’s a full smile, so big that it’s gotta hurt.

 

“Merry Christmas you dork,” he laughs softly, unable to help his own grin. “Now help me up. I don’t really feel like pulling a muscle before the day even really begins,” he jokes.

 

Cas sits up and knocks most of the pillows to the floor, then slowly lifts Dean into an upright position. Before he can swing his legs over the side of the bed to stand though, Cas fits himself against Dean’s back again. Hands slip under his t-shirt in a very familiar way.

 

“Merry Christmas, pup,” Cas murmurs sweetly. “Ignore what your Uncle Sam said earlier. This time next year, we’ll be happy to get up at anytime you see fit to wake us, alright?”

 

“6am Cas, really?” he mumbles through a tight throat, mesmerized by the sight of Cas’s big hands framing his little(big) bump. It makes him ridiculously happy at the same time as it gives him the feeling that he’s forgetting something.

 

“ _Anytime,_ pup,” Cas emphasizes with a nip to Dean’s neck. “Anything you want. Anytime. Your father is joking, he and I will always be there to care for you.”

 

“What he said,” Dean smiles, shaking his head in exasperation. “Y’know he has no idea what we’re saying right?”

 

“Yes,” Cas rolls his eyes fondly, “I’m very aware that he _or she_ is not capable of interpreting information at this stage of it’s development. However, I find it extremely reassuring to pretend as if it can. That way I can pretend the baby knows intrinsically how loved he/she is already.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Cas pecks his cheek and then pushes Dean into motion again, unaware of all the gooey-disgusting feelings roiling away inside him. It’s better that way.

 

Soon enough he and Cas are on their feet at out the door. He’d reluctantly recruited Cas to help him carry his (beautifully) wrapped presents, so he has Cas’s present in his arms while Cas follows behind him with Sam and Jess’s. Once carefully stowed under the tree with a few other colorfully wrapped packages, Cas grabs his hand and tugs him in the direction of the kitchen.

 

“Finally,” Sam grouses under his breath when they walk into the room.

 

“God, I miss coffee,” he sighs, inhaling the smell of freshly ground beans with a pang of longing. He shoots a disparaging look at Cas over Jess’s head as she comes to hug him. “This is your fault.”

 

“Merry Christmas to you too, Dean,” Jess rolls her eyes up at him, letting Sam have his turn at hugging the pregnant dude. Sam’s hug lasts even longer

 

“How does hot chocolate with banana sound?” Cas hedges hopefully. The guy has it down, patented by now, he’s already pulling out there stash of ingredients they’d accumulated over the last couple of months without even really looking.

 

“Fine.”

 

Does sound pretty damn good. And the wink Cas sends over his shoulder _does_ something to him. Not fair.

 

Sam pulls out a chair for him right next to Jess, nodding his head towards it none too subtly.

 

“Don’t start this shit with me, Sam - ”

 

“Soooo what’s the plan guys?” Jess cuts in. “Breakfast, presents, movies, cuddling - ”

 

“What,” Dean squawks, head whipping around to stare at Jess in horror, only putting minimal effort into resisting Sam as he nudges him over to sit down.

 

“Dean it’s _Christmas_ \- ”

 

“ _And?!_ ”

 

“And we’re taking this day to demonstrate how much we love you - ”

 

“You’ve got to be - ” he pauses when Jess smirks at him. Looking down, realizing he’s sitting down, he glares at both of them. “I hate you.”

 

“That was _way_ too easy, Dean,” Jess says smugly, reaching over to high-five Sam. “All we have to do is bring up physical or emotional intimacy, and you’re like putty in our hands.”

 

“Cas, why did we think it was a good idea to invite tweedle dee and tweedle dum over here? They’re nothing but trouble.”

 

“A very astute observation,” Cas hands him his still steaming mug, and then leans against the counter next to him. “I wonder where they learned such untowardly behavior.”

 

Sam and Jess laugh while he scowls up at Cas.

 

“You are all uninvited to next Christmas.”

 

“And miss your pup’s first Christmas?” Sam asks skeptically. “Yeah, I don’t think so.”

 

The reminder that there will be another human being among them next year- _his human being_ \- is immediately sobering. Absently, he stares down at his belly, struggling to imagine himself without it now, picturing in its place himself holding a fragile, soft, little baby. A thought tugs at the edge of his mind, a weird memory of white bundle, but before he can think too deeply on it, Cas’s hand settles on his shoulder.

 

“Are you alright?” Cas asks him softly, leaning down to speak directly into his ear.

 

Clearing his throat quickly, he comes to a decision.

 

“Presents, breakfast, anything but cuddling,” he ticks off with his fingers. He aims a reassuring smile up at Cas and then grabs his cup and stands. “Last one there- not counting me obviously- has to hand out the gifts.”

 

Sam and Jess look at each other and then at Cas who shrugs.

 

“You’re going to make Cas do it, aren’t you?”

 

“It’s fine, Dean,” Cas wraps an arm around him. “I want to, and was planning on it.”

 

“Besides,” Jess says, “doesn’t the person handing out the presents have all the power? They get to choose who opens what first and whatnot.”

 

He wouldn’t know. Dean can honestly say it’s been a few years(at least) since he’s had a traditional Christmas. And then, he’d never been the one handing out presents. For reasons.

 

“Guess I never thought of it that way.”

 

Sam and Jess take the little couch, leaving Dean alone with his hot chocolate on the long one while Cas crouches besides the tree. They’re all still in their pajamas and someone must’ve turned on the Christmas lights around the living room and the tree even though they’re on a timer, so the room is especially bright- and dare he say it- merry.

 

This is already the best Christmas he’s ever had.

 

“Let’s get this party started then,” he claps his hands and rubs them together. “Ready Cas? It’s your move.”

 

Cas turns to look at the multiple boxes, a pensive look crossing his face before seemingly grabbing one at random.

 

“It’s got your name written on it, Dean,” Cas says like he’s proud of his choice. He stands and walks it over to Dean but when he hands it to him and moves to get up, Sam shakes his head.

 

“One at a time is fine, man,” he says, smiling over at both of them. He’s got one arm slung over Jess’s shoulder, slouched all the down into the cushions, the picture of comfort.

 

“You guys are going to sit there and watch me open it?” he raises his eyebrows incredulously.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Whatever,” he shakes his head, and looks down at the present in his lap. He shouldn’t be this excited, he’s not a kid anymore for chist’s sake. Feeling along it’s side for it’s lining- fuck it- he rips it open and turns the thing around.

 

He holds it up. “ _Preparation for Parenting_? Awww Sam, you shouldn’t have!”

 

“I didn’t,” Sam holds his hands up.

 

“I did,” Jess pipes. “My mother swears by it! This book is the secret to a parent and baby’s successful night of sleep. 98% success rate to all those she recommended it to, _and_ there’s more of them! It’s a series!”

 

He looks to Cas for help, but Cas is failing at hiding his smile.

 

“Thanks, Jess,” he smiles over at her. “This is awesome.”

 

“You’ll be thanking me a lot more in a few months,” she narrows her eyes knowingly.

 

“You’re probably right,” he chuckles, pushing at Cas’s shoulder. “Ok, who’s next?”

 

Dean takes a huge gulp of his banana hot chocolate as Cas makes his way back under the tree. God….a few _months…_

 

“Dean again.”

 

“Let someone else have a turn,” he argues, waving him off.

 

He reaches back under. “Dean. And Dean.”

 

“Crap, okay, gimme,” he sighs, reaching out for it.

 

This one is a lot bigger. Opening it up, he sees blue and black plaid, and oh god he has to touch it.

 

He frees it from it’s box- it’s some kind of sweater thing- but he literally gives zero fucks about what it actually is. His fingers have a mind of their own as he runs his fingers all over it.

 

“It’s so _soft_ ,” he says in wonder.

 

But when he brings it his face- almost moaning at the velvety feeling of it sliding against his cheek- he finally realizes that the room is silent and there are three _very_ amused eyes staring at him.

 

“What?”

 

“I did a lot of research on what I should get you,” Sam explains, still smiling. “I read that pregnant people- but mostly Omegas- tend to appreciate textures more so than they usually would. Stimulating your tactile senses with soft things is supposed to be very soothing and comforting.”

 

His cheeks turn a little pink, but he still finds it pretty difficult to drag the sweater away from his face, so he can’t really disagree.

 

“Uh,” he coughs awkwardly. “Thanks.”

 

The proof that he likes it is practically undeniable, so Sam doesn’t lose his smug smile at Dean’s very brief thanks. It stays in place for the other four items of very soft clothing as well. And the baby blanket. And the socks, which are currently on his feet.

 

By the time they actually get to a present that isn’t addressed to Dean, the presents under the tree are more than half way gone.

 

“Jess, Sam, would you like to open your gifts together since they’re next to each other?” Cas asks earnestly, holding up two thin boxes.

 

Here we go.

 

“Sure,” Jess says easily.

 

“Throw em’,” Sam holds his hands up.

 

Cas waits until both of them are ready before tossing them individually. But of course, he has to walk over every single package with Dean’s name it.

 

“What the…” Sam trails off and then abruptly throws his head back in laughter.

 

Jess however, is scowling at him maliciously over her gift.

 

“You got me _skin mags_?”Sam howls, holding up three magazines with very scantily clad women on the covers. “Dean, _why?_ ”

 

“You got me a shirt that says, ‘ _What happens in Vegas doesn’t always stay in Vegas’_?!” she says with venom dripping from every word. “ _And_ you got Sam, _porn?_ ’

 

Dean keeps his face as straight as possible. “Hey, don’t look at me. Those are from Cas.”

 

Jess doesn’t even glance over at Cas, but Sam sees Cas’s surprised face looking between them and Dean and his laughter redoubles, breaking Dean’s resistance to laugh as well. He’s laughing so hard that baby kicks as if to say _Enough with the earthquake-we get it, you’re funny._

 

“Dean Winchester, you are a horrible person,” Jess shakes her head, the beginning of a smile barely ticking up the corners of her lips.

 

“Shut up,” he chuckles, still a little breathless. Cas has come to sit next to him again and is rubbing a soothing hand up and down his back while Dean tries to catch his breath. “We usually exchange gag gifts at Christmas, remember? You guys are the ones who broke tradition.”

 

“Dean, these are never going to make it out the door, nevermind to California,” Sam wipes a tear from his eye. “God- my stomach hurts now.”

 

“Don’t even start with me, dude,” Dean pats his stomach warily. “This kid just nailed me in the kidney.”

 

“Highly unlikely,” Cas says, covering Dean’s hand with his own and holding it in place. The pup doesn’t kick again, but they don’t move their hands away either. “You never told me about this tradition, Dean.”

 

“It’s not _really_ a tradition,” Jess squints her eyes like she’s searching for words. “Christmas shopping is just hard. Especially because we’ve known each other for so long now. It’s different with a pup on the way,” a beautiful, excited smile lights up her face as she looks at Dean. “So get ready to be spoiled. You and the pup, Dean.”

 

“Me?” Dean asks incredulously, “The pup I get, feel free to leave me out of it.”

 

Cas’s other hand, which had somehow found it’s way around Dean’s waist without him noticing, squeezes him.

 

“I don’t think you will be winning this argument anytime soon, beautiful,” he says so softly that he’s positive that he is the only one that catches the words. “You’re out numbered 3-1.”

 

“Yeah yeah,” he grumbles, pushing Cas away slightly. “Just go hand out your presents already.”

 

Cas smiles and squeezes him once before heading back over to the tree. “Dean. Then Sam and Jess again.”

 

Dean rolls his eyes.

 

Cas walks over to hand Sam and Jess a single envelope, gives Dean a small, neatly wrapped box, and then sits beside him with an expectant look.

 

When Cas nods at him impatiently, he carefully pulls the paper off this time.

 

“You got me an iphone?” he mutters, completely shocked. He looks up at Cas with wide eyes, only to see Cas smiling calmly back at him.

 

“Your current phone is hardly capable of more than basic communication. This phone will allow you to FaceTime, take excellent pictures, and I’ve already downloaded a pregnancy tracker app for you,” Cas tells him animatedly, and all Dean can do is stare- that’s how he catches the worry between his brows. “….do you like it?”

 

“Of course, dude,” Dean hurries to reassure him. “It’s just- a lot. Too much.”

 

“It’s not. Your old phone was unreliable- this new one will give me peace of mind along with the other benefits I just listed,” Cas says quietly.

 

He opens the box and pulls out the little rectangular phone. When he presses the top button on the right like he would do for Cas’s phone to turn it on, he discovers that along with downloaded apps, Cas had also chosen a screen saver for him.

 

“Ok,” Dean says through his smile. “Thanks, Cas.”

 

It would probably be weird to kiss Cas in front of his little brother and his mate right? Yeah, that would be- here he goes.

 

Cas seems surprised when Dean kisses him on the cheek, but the picture Cas chose as Dean’s screensaver makes him want to do a lot more than a peck on the cheek.

 

Apparently, before Cas had gotten the shot of the two of them smiling with the tree a few weeks back, he’d captured the moment right before as well. When Cas had crowded close behind him, holding him close and looking into his eyes- pretty much begging for a kiss-when Dean had happily obliged.

 

The picture perfectly captured them. Eyes closed and mouths firmly attached, but it was obvious from the way their cheeks were flexed that they’d been trying not to smile into the kiss.

 

It was hard not to smile into every kiss.

 

Cas is smiling at him now, and he’s _very_ tempted to give in when he realizes how quiet the room has become. But when he looks over, expecting amused or even mushy looks from the two of them, he’s surprised to see the blatant shock on their faces as they stare directly at Cas.

 

“What did you do?” he murmurs to Cas under his breath.

 

“Castiel,” Sam starts hesitantly. “Is this what I think it is?” he asks, holding up the envelope.

 

“What is he talking about?” Dean asks curiously. Cas never did tell him what he was planning on getting Sam and Jess. And even after Dean insisted that he didn’t need to get anyone anything, Cas had just shook his head and told him it was already taken care of.

 

“Two round- trip travel vouchers. For Sam and Jessica to use when you go into labor,” Cas tells Dean simply and then turns to Sam. “I know how important it is to both of you that you are here for Dean. Having you here at such a pivotal time would not only be a comfort to Dean, but myself as well.”

Snapping his jaw shut from where it had been hanging open, he ignores the blank looks from Sam and Jess in favor of getting to his feet and pulling Cas with him.

 

“Can I talk to you for a sec?”

 

He’s not really giving Cas a choice, gripping his hand and pulling him along behind him, but Cas doesn’t argue, doesn’t say anything actually. When they enter the hallway, Dean all but shoves Cas into the first room they come across. Shutting the door behind them both, he spins on Cas way faster than should be attempted in his current state, and it’s really no surprise that steadies him with both hands on either side of his waist.

 

“You…you got them plane tickets?” Dean’s voice comes out way smaller than he meant it to. And when did he tell his hands it way ok to make fists in Cas’s shirt?

 

“Yes, Dean,” Cas tries to duck to catch Dean’s eye. “Is that okay with you?”

 

“Cas….” He bites his lip against all the emotion building up. “There aren’t words.”

 

Cas tips his head up. “You don’t need words. Just tell me this makes you happy.”

 

“More than happy,” he breathes. “Thank you so - ”

 

Cas cuts him off with another dizzying kiss- all emotion- that goes on and on and on. His lips are puffy and kiss swollen when he notices he’s somehow found his back against the door.

 

“Fuck,” he pants, closing his eyes when Cas leans his forehead against his own. “They’re waiting for us.”

 

“They can wait another minute,” Cas tells him softly, tilting his head until he’s scenting Dean’s neck.

 

Dean nods, keeping his eyes closed and lets the silence stretch on for as long as Cas wants. He’d happily stay here if that is what Cas wanted to for the rest of the holiday.

 

“Think about it, Dean,” Cas whispers against his neck, “Next Christmas, there will be a new addition to our little family.”

 

Cas slowly makes his way down Dean’s body until Dean watches with half lidded eyes as Cas gets to his knees in front of him. An Alpha on his knees for an omega. _His_ Alpha. The thought is so wrong, yet so right for them. Cas is right for them.

 

“Everyone is very excited for your arrival, little one,” Cas speaks directly to his stomach. His hands come up to rub the peak of it. “Your father and I especially.”

 

“Shit. I think I’m more turned on now than I was when we were making out,” Dean sighs, shaking his head down at Cas. “And we _definitely_ don’t have time for you to knot me.”

 

Cas’s soft smile turns into a smirk.

 

“No, no, no, no. No Cas. I know that look,” Dean says, placing a hand squarely on Cas’s forehead to keep him away. “At least get off your knees. You’re giving my mind all kinds of ideas that we also do not have time for.”

 

Cas pushes against his hand to place a kiss against the pup, and then gets to his feet.

 

“Alright. We’ve been gone long enough. Hold on to that thought, though,” Cas winks. “I’ve got plans for you tonight, Mr. Winchester.”

 

Oh god, yes.

 

They walk hand-in-hand back to the living room.

 

Sam immediately gets to his feet.

 

And takes the steps necessary to get to them. Without a word, Sam is hugging Cas, and Dean has to shake his head a little to make sure he’s not hallucinating.

 

Yeah, Cas and Sam get along pretty well but this is new. And awesome.

 

He can tell Cas is just as surprised by the way he’s squeezing Dean’s hand.

 

When Sam pulls away, he keeps a firm hand on Cas’s shoulder. “You don’t know what this means to me. And Jess. Thank you, Cas. You’re a good man,” Sam says seriously.

 

Dean must’ve made a sound, or done something with his face that belied all emotions swirling just below the surface, because both Cas and Sam turn to him.

 

“What?” he croaks, automatically taking a step behind Cas.

 

Cas smiles at him before wrapping an arm around him and tucking him close to his side. His words are for Sam, but he doesn’t look away from Dean. “You’re very welcome, Sam. I’m happy to have you here.”

 

“Get a fucking _room_....”

 

“What?” Cas turns his head to look up in surprise.

 

“I said, umm. Lets finish up with the presents?” Sam says as serious as he can muster with his shoulders shaking. “I’m going to go with that,” he chuckles, “then we can eat.”

 

“Shut up,” Dean laughs and shoves at Sam’s shoulder. “Go sit down before you hurt yourself with all that wittiness.”

 

“You should’ve seen Cas’s face,” Sam snorts, turning to find him place next to Jess again. “Priceless.”

 

“Did he say we should get a room?” Cas asks Dean quietly.

 

“Yes. And he’s going to regret that tonight, aren’t you Sam?”

 

“Oh god- STOP.”

 

“I’m surrounded by children,” Jess mutters.

 

“Okay, okay,” Dean finally folds. “Back to it then. Sooner rather than later, because I’m kind of starving.”

 

There’s only a few presents left under the tree, so it actually goes pretty quickly. Sam, Jess, and Cas all open a few things here and there, while Dean opens twice as much. His last gift- a gift from Gabriel that Cas somehow managed to stash away in his office- was the biggest box of diapers he’s ever seen. He’s still reeling when Cas pulls Dean’s present to him- the last present from under the tree- into his lap.

 

Cas stays sitting next to the tree, and Dean is finding it increasingly difficult to stay quiet as Cas slowly turns it around and starts to carefully rip the wrapping paper off. There aren’t really words needed to be said, but maybe he should offer up some kind of explanation? Maybe it was a stupid idea…

 

“Dean….” Cas whispers, staring down at his gift in his lap.

 

Dean can’t decide if he should answer or not, so he’s relieved when Jess finally asks, “What is it, Castiel? Hold it up, we want to see!”

 

He’s watching Cas closely, so he’s hopefully the only one who notices Cas’s fingers trembling as he holds up the book Dean got him. It’s more of a photo album than an actual book, light brown leather with a frame right in the middle. It’s the title of the book and the picture in the middle that renders the room speechless- even Sam, who was in on it- has nothing to say.

 

On the top of the book are the words, “ _Daddy & Me: A Book of Firsts_.” And in the middle is a picture of Dean and Cas, huddled close with their hands framing the pup. He remembers that exact moment during thanksgiving, sitting on the couch in his shitty apartment. The pup had just started kicking, and since Cas was already sitting next to him, he’d reached over for Cas’s hand and placed it right over the spot. Smiling at the look of pure adoration on Cas’s face, he didn’t put up a fuss about Cas moving to practically wrap himself around Dean and his bump. He didn’t even notice when Sam sneakily captured the moment. When Sam had sent it to him a few days ago, he’d immediately fallen in love with the picture.

 

It seems he’s not the only one who likes it.

 

Crap- Cas has tears in his eyes. And now everyone is looking at him.

 

“Open it,” he prompts softly, anything to get that kind of attention off him. “Come sit next to me first, Cas.”

 

Cas slowly gets to his feet-due in large part because his eyes are glued to Dean- and sits as close as physically possible before reverently opening the book onto his lap.

 

There’s only a few pictures inside of course, the ultrasound picture on the first page, the picture with the tree in the background on the back of it, and then another one of Sam’s candid shots- this one of just himself smiling down at his stomach when he’d thought no one was looking.

 

Maybe it’s a little silly to put a picture of himself in it- he’d mentally debated with himself for far longer than he was willing to admit- but he’d ultimately determined that this is for Cas, and he’s pretty positive Cas will like it.

 

“Dean,” Cas whispers again, ghosting his fingers over the glossy pages. “Dean, this…”

 

“Stupid?” he supplies hesitantly, feeling not a little insecure.

 

“Beautiful. It’s beautiful, Dean,” Cas says softly. Everything about Cas at the moment is soft; his voice, his facial expression, the hand Cas managed to work around his back. And when he leans into Dean, he kisses him softly as well.

 

“Awwwww…” he hears Jess coo somewhere over Cas’s shoulder, causing him to roll his eyes. He forgot about those two.

 

Thankfully Cas reads his mind and pulls away- far enough away that their lips aren’t touching, but their foreheads still are- so he can speak quietly to Dean without them hearing.

 

“Thank you, Dean. I love it. You couldn’t have gotten me a better gift.”

 

“Yeah?” he says back just as quietly.

 

“Yes. And I can’t wait to be a daddy.”

 

“God, I wanna kiss you again.”

 

Cas smiles at him before leaning back, still not breaking the staring contest going on between them. “Tonight.”

 

This time it’s Jess who fake coughs, “ _Get a room,_ ” but they ignore it. They have all the time in the world.

 

 

 

 

There’s far less drama as the day continues.

 

After they eat breakfast(Dean ate way more than he should have), they all kind of pass out in a food coma while watching It’s a Wonderful Life. Sam and Jess take the floor since everyone insisted Dean(and therefor Cas) take the couch, and Dean ends up tucked in between the inside of the couch and Cas, who promptly starts to snore in his ear twenty minutes in.

 

Dean at least makes it half way through the movie before he finds his nose pressed against Cas’s neck and his eyes too heavy to open.

 

When the movie is over and they all rouse themselves blurrily, they somehow end up talking about the pup while Cas gives him an impromptu back massage. He hadn’t realized how many knots had accumulated during his pregnancy, and neither had Cas judging by the promise for more regular massages in the future.

 

Over all, it’s a quiet, lazy, _awesome_ day.

 

No real plans or schedule to follow, no pressure to do anything or be anywhere. It’s just nice. Really nice.

 

And since they’re all old and tired(Jess’s words, not his), no one argues on calling an early night. Ten o’clock early.

 

When Sam and Jess excuse themselves, hiding fake yawns all the while, Cas lets Dean take his time getting up. Lets Dean take his time kissing him and making up for lost time. And lets Dean slowly lead the way out of the living room.

 

“Wait, Dean,” Cas reaches for his hand to stop him.

 

“What’s up?”

 

“It’s time for your real present, Dean,” Cas moves so that he can circle his arms around Dean from behind.

 

“Cas, I told you, you already got me too much. You shouldn’t - ”

 

“This is different,” Cas cuts him off with a squeeze. “This is for me just as much as it is for you.”

 

“Alright,” he sighs. “Lay it on me.”

 

Cas takes a deep breath but he doesn’t move.

 

“Dean… I’d like… I’d like for you to help pick out which room should be the nursery,” Cas says hoarsely. “And I’d also appreciate your help designing it.”

 

His mouth is so dry all of a sudden that he has to force himself to swallow a few times before he’s able to string together any words.

 

“This is your Christmas present? The baby’s room?”

 

Before Cas gets a chance to answer he’s turning in Cas’s arms to kiss him again. Just a quick brush of lips and tongue and then he’s gripping Cas’s hand and starting forward.

 

“Alright, you win in the gift giving department.”

 

“It’s not a contest,” Cas says from behind him, amusement evident in his voice.

 

“I don’t want your pity party, buddy. I’ll beat you next year,” Dean promises.

 

“You can try.”

 

They continue to banter their way through all of the guest bedrooms, throwing out colors and half formed design ideas before they finally(predictably) settle on the bedroom closest to their own.

 

It’s a decent sized room, with two big windows in the corner- perfect spot to bask in the sun while sitting in a rocking chair- wooden floors but big enough for a big, fluffy rug.

 

They stand silently for a long time in the middle of the room, just staring at the white walls. Cas wrapped around him again with his hands resting on the top of Dean’s stomach like he couldn’t resist.

 

This is the perfect room for their pup. He can feel it. It’s gonna be good. Just like him and Cas.

 

“Dean.”

 

He hadn’t realized they’ve been rocking back and forth slightly until Cas gently tips his head back so that Dean’s own is resting on Cas’s shoulder, and their eyes can meet.

 

“Move in with me.”

 

His eyes widen, and he feels himself go tense all over. “What?”

 

“Move in with me, Dean,” Cas repeats fervently. “I want you here everyday. I want to wake up to you every morning. I want to start a life with you.”

 

“Cas,” he whispers, reaching back to thread a hand into Cas’s hair.

 

“This isn’t an impulsive decision,” Cas continues, “and it’s not one I take lightly, either. You don’t have to give me an answer immediately….and you don’t have to say it back.”

 

Dean is really confused now, until he feels the heat of Cas’s lips against his neck and the whisper of words he hadn’t realized he’d been waiting for against his skin.

 

“I love you,” Cas says so quietly that Dean stops breathing to hear. “I love you so much, Dean.”

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the people who are like me and hate errors- please forgive me. I'll go back and edit all of this when I have the time! Hope you enjoyed and aren't too mad at me <3


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two more weeks till summer. Thank. God.

 

 

In that second, it feels as if time has stopped.

 

At the same time it feels like that second lasted the span of infinity.

 

“You love me?” Dean manages to somehow croak. He’s actually proud of himself for being able to string together actual words that make sense.

 

Even through the chaos that is his rioting emotions he can acknowledge the fact that Cas is smiling against his skin. “Very much so, yes,” Cas murmurs into him.

 

He flounders for words, mouth opening and shutting but no sounds pass his lips. Miraculously, Cas seems to understand.

 

“Shhh…. You don’t need to say anything,” Cas speaks softly. “I have no expectations of you, Dean. There is no pressure. Nothing needs to change if you don’t want it to.”

 

This changes _everything._

 

“No. You can’t,” Dean’s voice cracks and he quickly shuts his eyes at the feeling of Cas’s lips pressing soothing kisses into his neck. “You don’t understand what you’re saying.”

 

“I think I have an idea,” Cas murmurs. “I know that this might seem a little overwhelming. But I’d like you to know that there is nothing you could say or do that can make me love you any less.”

 

His brains feels like it might be short-circuiting with the repetition of those words. He’s never heard them so much in such a short amount of time. Or at all.

 

“ _Why?”_

 

“Dean,” Cas breathes, all traces of his previous smile gone, and the new scent of sadness begins to trickle through the air. Carefully, so carefully that it feels like its happening in slow motion, Cas turns Dean around before hugging him tight to his chest- Dean automatically ducking a little bit so that Cas can pretty much encase him.

 

When he speaks again, his words are all but a whisper.

 

“I couldn’t possibly answer that question to it’s fullest extend because there are so many reasons. My answer would be limitless. So the real question becomes; how could I _not_?”

 

Cas pauses, stroking the hair at the base of Dean’s neck while simultaneously rubbing circles into his back. He is giving Dean room to interject, but when Dean doesn’t try to use his voice again it only seems to confirm whatever Cas is thinking.

 

“For the life of me, I will never understand how you could possibly think so little of yourself,” Cas shakes his head. “You are perfect, Dean- yes Dean, don’t shake your head at me,” Cas reprimands softly when he feels Dean’s subtle protest. “I will tell you until I am blue in the face or until you finally understand that I care about you because of _everything_ you are. Your flaws including. I want you, all of you, during the good, the bad, and the ugly. That is, if you’ll have me.”

 

His throat is clogging up at the thought of having Cas the way he’s describing. Of finally having his person. Deep down, he knows he could say the same thing back to Cas- tell him how fucking amazing he’s made Dean’s life- but he also knows that he can’t and won’t do that. Not right now. Not when he’s aware that Cas can probably scent the subtle smell of fear coming from him.

 

Everyone who loves him eventually leaves him.

 

Because he’s not enough.

 

He’ll never _be_ enough.

 

And now it’s not just fear coursing though him, but _pain._

 

“Dean, baby, what’s wrong?” Cas coaxes softly, trying unsuccessfully to get Dean to look up at him.

 

“You want to be my mate?” Dean asks back just as quietly, although the words seem to resound through the room with an impact he didn’t expect. There is a full beat of silence before Cas responds.

 

“I would be more than honored to have you as my mate,” Cas whispers slowly, carefully. “But if that’s not something you want right now- or ever, I am just as happy having you the way we are now.”

 

Dean stiffens. “Having me?”

 

“Not like that,” Cas reassures him quickly. “I don’t want to own you, Dean. That’s never been what our relationship has been about. Even with the pup. You are your own person and we are equals in every way, neglecting the fact that you are my _better_ half, of course,” Cas chuckles without much humor. “No. I merely meant that I will gladly take any part of you that you are willing to give…. Although I will admit to wanting to own your heart.”

 

“Cas,” he whispers.

 

“You are not obligated to return my affections in any way,” Cas starts to speak quickly, hesitance creeping into his voice for the first time all night. “ I just- It felt important that you know-”

 

But he’s had enough words. Enough of feeling sorry for himself and sorry for Cas. And he doesn’t want to hate himself right now, not when Cas just put himself out there for him the way he just did.

 

He cuts off Cas’s words with a kiss.

 

He closes his eyes and slants his head the way he’s learned is perfect to get Cas to take control. It’s subtle, but he is giving Cas the upper hand, letting him know that it’s okay to be an Alpha right now.

 

Cas is surprised at first, not expecting the sudden change, but he quickly assimilates the new information and gets with the picture- stepping forward and probably unintentionally puffing himself up.

 

Just in time for Dean to pull away without a word and grab Cas’s hand.

 

“Dean, what - ”

 

He’s already pulling Cas out of the room and down the hallway so he doesn’t bother with a reply. And he doesn’t stop until their bedroom door is closed behind them.

 

He walks all the way back up to Cas, but instead of kissing him again he wraps his arms around his neck to press their foreheads together.

 

“You’re too good for me,” Dean whispers. It’s been weighing on his mind for a while now, but recent events have made it abundantly clear that Cas has no idea.

 

And who the hell would have anticipated him saying that after the way they started? Thinking on it now is kind of mind blowing. Back then all he wanted to do was blend in stay as far away from his gender designation as possible. Now he was about to do the exact opposite with an Alpha who _loves_ him, _for_ an Alpha that loves him.

 

“How can I convince you otherwise?” Cas breathes, running his fingers over Dean’s lower back and hips.

 

Dean leans up to kiss him softly then rocks back on his heel. “You can show me. Show me like you promised you would.”

 

Not that he hadn’t already. Since that night, Cas had showed him so much. How to give and receive. How to laugh with your whole body. How to feel. How to let go. And how to be himself.

 

Now he just had one last part of himself to give to Cas.

 

Hopefully he’d be whole by the end of it.

 

Cas nods, blue eyes sparkling in the moonlight shining through the window, and steps forward to crowd in close. At first Dean thinks he’s going to kiss his neck, but when Cas just presses his nose to the delicate skin of his throat, Dean automatically tilts his head to the side to let Cas scent him, demonstrating his complete trust.

 

It feels different. Like there is more meaning behind the action now. And their combined scent- almost completely indistinguishable from each other now- only highlights the fact that they are something more, something special.

 

He closes his eyes and leans into Cas, pretty much letting him support his weight.

 

Cas loves him.

 

When the kisses do come after long minutes scenting and nuzzling into him, Dean is the one to start reaching for clothing. He needs skin on skin immediately, needs every part of Cas he can get. Something snapped in his mind earlier, and if he doesn’t do what he told himself he would now, he might never be able to.

 

And Cas deserved to have this…if only once.

 

Cas lets Dean strip him of his shirt but stops his hands when he immediately reaches for his pants.

 

“Slow down,” Cas says directly against his ear. “We have all night, Dean.”

 

For some reason that doesn’t feel true.

 

He bites his lip, but lets Cas slow their pace enough so that they undress each one piece of clothing at a time over the span of way too long. Because Cas doesn’t just undress, he gets on his knees to help Dean shimmy out of his pants; grabs Dean’s fingers away from his own pants so that he can kiss Dean’s fingers first, and when both of them are _finally_ naked, he just looks at him. In classic Cas fashion- absolutely adoring, like he’s never seen anything better.

 

But his skin feels like there are ants crawling underneath it. It was an itch that needed scratching, that needed to be done so he could move on. Done with what, though, he isn’t sure.

 

So while Cas stares at him up and down, he gathers his fumbling courage and decides to act.

 

After one last(desperate) deep breath, Dean turns his back on Cas in order to climb up on the bed on his hands and knees. Eyes squeezed shut. Head bowed. Fingers clawing the sheets. Legs slightly- but obviously spread. The picture of vulnerability.

 

This is the first time in his entire life that he’s presented for someone.

 

And judging by the hitched breath that comes from behind him, Cas is very aware of the significance.

 

As active as their sex life currently is, they’ve _never_ done this before. It’s never even been mentioned. One, because he’s always thought of presenting as demoralizing, demeaning and pathetic. Two, he could never imagine himself submitting to someone like that. And three, because Cas pretty much knew him better than he knew himself sometimes and never asked him to.

 

It wasn’t a big deal until it is.

 

Cas loves him.

 

Too long passes in silence, but he’s too chicken shit to open his eyes or mouth. Right when he’s about to break- give up and scramble off the bed to go find somewhere to hide- he feels the bed dip behind him.

 

He’s tense all over, not making a peep so that he hears every shift of the bed as Cas comes closer.

 

There’s a brush of skin against his thigh and ass- and Dean thinks, _fucking finally_ \- but then there’s the heat of Cas very carefully draping himself over Dean’s back so that his lips are tickling Dean’s ears again, and he can very easily snake his arms over Dean’s to intertwine their fingers.

 

“What are you doing, beautiful?” he murmurs so sweetly that Dean’s chest tightens and the back of his eyes prickle.

 

Cas has this way of making him feel so goddamn special even when he feels like he could break apart at any second.

 

He tries to ignore it.

 

“What does it look like I’m doing?” he croaks, curling in on himself even more.

 

“You’re shaking,” Cas points out, squeezing his fingers.

 

Shit. He would like to blame it on the fact that he’s huge and his arms aren’t used to supporting that much weight, but then he’d be lying. He feels so goddamn small, and his body and mind are rebelling against that feeling.

 

“I’m sorry,” he sighs, because of course he can’t even do this right. “I’m fine.”

 

Cas kisses his neck. “You’re not.”

 

“How do you know? Just do it, Cas,” he huffs in frustration. He flinches away from Cas’s lips, “This is what I want, and I said I’m fine.”

 

Cas pulls back enough so that he can rest his head on the tense junction between Dean’s shoulders, arms slowly coming around to wrap around Dean’s stomach. His full weight isn’t on him- far from it- but if his pup wasn’t there, he definitely would have face planted. God, his arms couldn’t stop fucking _shaking._

 

“Not like this,” Cas whispers.

 

“Cas - ”

 

Cas’s shifts his grip again and tightens it suddenly around his shoulders. Before he can struggle, or even tell Cas off he’s being pulled backwards and upright until he’s on his knees- his back to Cas’s front. He doesn’t get to stay there long. Cas is still moving around him, to the side of him until he’s got the perfect angle to scoop Dean up with barely a grunt, taking his full weight for a second before he sets him gently on his back.

 

Dean starts to sit up. “Cas, let me-”

 

Cas gently pushes his shoulder back down and swoops down to kiss him quickly. “No, Dean. Let _me.”_

Dean closes his eyes as Cas starts to run his fingers through his hair, the touch so soft and methodical that he can’t help but let the fight drain out of him for now.

 

“Keep your eyes closed for me, Dean,” Cas instructs, kissing Dean’s forehead when he nods.

 

And then the absence of Cas immediately tests his resolve. He can feel Cas moving around on the bed, the mattress dipping oddly as it’s occupants shifts their weight, but he feels adrift until Cas’s fingers are caressing the sole of his foot. Fingers at first, and then lips.

 

Cas kisses both his feet and the inside of his ankles. Switching from one leg to the other, he adorns Dean’s skin with touches and kisses that could only be described as worshipful. He works his way up slowly, kissing up his calves, his knees, the insides of his thighs- carefully avoiding his now interested erection-and pays special attention to his enormously round stomach, stretch lines and all.

 

“Love it when you do that,” Dean sighs quietly. He tenses up a bit when he realizes what he just said aloud, but Cas just smiles against his skin and keeps going.

 

“I love you,” Cas murmurs against the peak, barely lifting his head from Dean’s belly. “Both of you. You and our pup are my life.”

 

His fingers are trembling again when he places his hand on the top of Cas’s head, unable to move his fingers much but needing to reassure Cas with touch if he can’t reassure him with his words.

 

Cas keeps moving. But as he moves up Dean’s body he starts moving into more dangerous territory.

 

His nipples, which are pretty much swollen and sensitive all the time now are a particular brand of torture Cas frequently likes to subject him to. Cas loves the way Dean falls apart when he starts kissing and licking them, getting Dean so horny that by the time he’s done, Dean’s lower half is ready for the main event.

 

He does the same thing now- kissing around one nipple before sucking it into his mouth- but without the fervent heat that usually fuels the action. It has the same effect, which is making Dean bite his lip hard to muffle his moan, but at the same time, it feels as if they’re building up to something that is more than just sex.

 

He feels it even more when Cas moves on to kiss his neck. That weird feeling in the pit of his stomach telling him that this is it. He’s never going to bear his neck for someone else. Or let another person scent him.

 

Cas is it for him.

 

His eyes are open now- only half-lidded really-and looking down at the crazy head of hair as he nips and sucks on the perfect spot for a mating mark.

 

“Cas,” he breathes. “Cas, c’mere.”

 

He’s not shaking anymore when he grips Cas’s face on either side and crashes their lips together. He wraps his arms around Cas’s neck while their lips move in tandem, and holds him tight like he never wants to let go.

But he still has a mission.

 

Cas groans when Dean pulls away, shaking his head against Dean’s forehead and breathing hard. “You don’t have to do this, Dean.”

 

“I know,” Dean mumbles. “I want to.”

 

And this time he means it.

 

He pets Cas’s hair back, looking into those blue eyes filled with concern. “Wanna help me up, little Alpha?”

 

This time it’s Cas who bites his lip, but he still maneuvers himself over Dean until he can gather him close to his chest in order to slowly move them upright. They remain attached, Cas helping him all the way through the movements until Dean is on his hands and knees again. This time he’s not scared and he’s not just trying to get it over with.

 

This time, he bows his back as much as possible, head up, and willingly(aware of what he’s doing to Cas) spreads his legs. He’s slick this time, can feel it between his cheeks, and knows Cas notices the change immediately.

 

Cas wastes no time staring, either. Once he notes the confidence Dean was lacking the first time around, Dean hears a sigh of relief, and then Cas is kissing him all over again. His thighs, his back. There’s no avoiding anything this time around either, as Cas nibbles on both cheeks before carefully licking the slick from around his hole.

 

When he points his tongue to work his way directly inside him though, Dean breaks his silence with a weird whining noise. It’s high-pitched and fucking embarrassing, but Cas loves it, and Dean has never been able to stop his noises when it comes to Cas, not completely.

 

He hums against him and Dean chokes on his next breath, squeezing the sheets to stave off the pleasure. He knows from experience that he can come just from this, so he reaches behind himself to push at Cas’s head.

 

“Too much,” he rasps as an explanation when Cas looks like he’s about to ignore Dean and get right back to it. At Dean’s words, Cas smirks and gets into position so that he’s kneeling behind him, rubbing up and down Dean’s back softly while kissing his back.

 

Dean spreads his legs more, a silent push to get on with it. He’s clenching around nothing and Cas is so fucking _close_ to where he needs to be.

 

“Put a pillow underneath you,” Cas pants. “Just in case.”

 

Dean is all too willing to comply, feeling around desperately until he finds one, and just as quickly jamming it between the bed and his bump. There’s still a bit of space in between is his last thought before he feels the tip of Cas’s dick rubbing back and forth between his cheeks.

 

Cas must know that he needs this, because all he says before he starts to push inside is, “Let me know if your arms get tired.”

 

Dean closes his eyes through the initial push, the feeling of fullness now so familiar it’s almost a comfort. Getting to feel Cas like this, inside him and all around him, still blows his mind and takes his breath away; it’s so good.

 

And Cas always pauses. Every single time, to make sure Dean is okay before they continue. It’s the little things like that that make Dean okay with submitting to this man. Cas is special, and there probably isn’t a damn thing he wouldn’t do for him if he asked. Just look at them now….There’s another sound stuck in his throat at the thought of what they must look like.

 

Cas makes a deep growling sound when Dean purposely tightens around Cas in answer to his pause, and then Cas is slowly pulling out.

 

The first thrust is slow. And so is the second, third, and forth. But by the fifth, on every thrust in, right before he pulls out, Cas starts to swivel his hips in a figure eight motion so that he’s just brushing against his prostate with only a hint of pressure.

 

Dean starts to jam his hips back to get it harder, but as soon as he does, there are iron bans of steel wrapping around his hips, keeping him in place as Cas slows his pace even more.

 

Another soft noise of complaint leaves his throat before he can help it, and for a second- so short he can almost forget about it- he realizes he’s acting every bit the needy omega this position represents.

 

And then Cas shifts his weight around and slams in hard- making him forget everything but Cas’s name and the first two swear words that come to mind when they repeat over and over in his head.

 

He doesn’t care anymore. Cas loves him.

 

He stops biting his lips, too overwhelmed by pleasure, and the first sounds that come out are a repetitive, “Oh, oh, oh, oh, _oh.”_

 

Cas smiles against the back of his shoulder and then bears his teeth slightly in a not so gentle bite.

 

“Fuck,” Dean groans, squeezing his eyes closed. On the tip of his tongue is the request for Cas to bite him, to mate him, but something stops him. A thought that reminds him to enjoy this while he still can because this little bit of heaven is temporary. This is probably his last chance to be what Cas wants him to be.

 

He spreads his legs even farther and stretches his neck up and to the right to give Cas complete access. Submitting completely and willingly to his Alpha.

 

“Dean,” Cas whispers roughly, pausing his rhythm to watch Dean. He moans when Dean shifts on his cock, twitching and running his fingers over Dean’s hips to settle himself. “You’re- god. You are-”

 

“Alpha,” is all Dean manages to rasp before Cas is pounding into him again.

 

Thrusting slowly, but hard enough that Dean begins to see stars behind his eyes and he no longer recognizes the sounds coming from his mouth as his own.

 

At some point his arms must’ve given out, because when he opens his eyes sometime later his forehead and elbows are braced on the bed while his ass is still up in the air for Cas- who hasn’t shown any signs of stopping besides slowing down his thrusts even more.

 

He’s right on the brink of coming, the constant stimulation to his prostate maddening and addicting at the same time, but at the rate Cas is going Cas might actually plan for this to last all night.

 

He grunts loudly at a particularly hard thrust. “Ah- Cas. Come on.”

 

Cas soothes kisses along his back, never stopping the movement of his hips as his pace slowly increases. “Shhhhh….”

 

His voice is absolutely wrecked at this point but his desperation apparently knows no bounds. He’s weak and he needs what Cas is offering him. “I- please, Cas. I need- ”

 

He’s saved any further embarrassment(kind of) when his words are cut off with an unintelligible shout. Cas had only needed Dean distracting for a second in order to hike his hips up and angle his own down, finding the perfect angle to set Dean off into a writhing, spasming, moaning mess of pleasure.

 

His whole body is on fire as Cas fucks him through it until he’s shaking in the aftermath. He’s only just aware enough to realize Cas hasn’t knotted him when Cas is suddenly pulling out.

 

A sound of confused protest leaves his throat- he feels almost cheated actually- until a hand strokes over the heated skin of cheek.

 

“Your arms,” Cas pants. “Turn over, baby.”

 

Fuck. His arms were basically noodles by now, but somehow he manages to muster whatever strength he has left to heft himself up and around to follow Cas’s order. His sigh of relief once he’s on his back(propped up against a few dozen pillows) is quickly turned into something else when Cas immediately repositions himself between Dean’s legs and slots into place with an easy thrust.

 

It’s definitely not as fast or even as hard, but the look on Cas’s face… He moans and tries to help Cas get in deeper, his knot just beginning to form and stretch inside him.

 

Cas helps him shift his legs apart so that he was a little more comfortable but his sole focus was the little thrust of his hips and his unwavering stare at Dean’s face.

 

Dean has to close his eyes at the look of love he sees there.

 

“It’s ok, Dean. It’s okay,” Cas murmurs breathlessly, leaning down to kiss Dean’s stomach. “I’m here. I- I love you.”

 

He closes his eyes even tighter and clenches his muscles around Cas’s knot inside him. It’s almost fully formed now, it’s just sheer will power on Cas’s part that’s keeping him from that wonderful feeling of fullness.

 

But he needs it now more than ever.

 

With shaking fingers he searches out Cas, fumbling around blindly- rocking with the motion of Cas moving inside him-until his fingers encounter soft, sweaty hair.

 

“I know,” he whispers.

 

Cas’s groan reverberates through him at the same time Cas is coming, his body going taught on top of his own, eyes trying desperately to stay open to see Dean’s face through the pleasured haze.

 

Everything slows down.

 

He strokes Cas’s back with numb fingers.

 

Cas rearranges them so that they are on their sides before he’s nuzzling into Dean’s neck, scenting him, and wrapping around him like an octopus.

 

Something like peace settles over both of them, but it’s a façade on Dean’s part.

 

He’s doing everything he can to prevent his scent from giving him away, his inner turmoil growing with every slow kiss Cas sleepily presses into his skin. It’s actually a relief when Cas whispers one more, “I love you,” before he drifts off to sleep.

 

He waits.

 

He waits until Cas is completely dead to the world and he knows for a fact the Alpha won’t be getting up any time soon before he carefully extricates himself.

 

Cas grumbles a bit, reaching for Dean, but Dean just kisses his forehead and runs his fingers through his hair until he rolls over and goes silent one more.

 

He’s going to miss this.

 

Slowly, hyper aware of every single creak in the floor his steps cause, he makes his way to the bathroom. Closes the door silently behind him, and makes sure to lock it.

 

The flood of emotion- of _pain_ \- that comes as soon as he hears the lock click almost sends him to his knees.

 

On shaking- well everything- he stumbles his way to Cas’s enormous bathtub. Swinging his legs over one at a time, he sits. Pulls his legs up so he can wrap his arms around them and his pup, then lets his head drop on top of them.

 

_Cas loves him._

 

And he's not enough.He will never be enough... 

 

He let’s the pain have him.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't apologize enough for all the mistakes that are surely there. I swear this will be edited when I find the time.


	38. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think after you read this, you'll understand why it took me so long to write...

 

 

 

It’s at least a couple of hours before he gathers the strength and he can feel his legs enough to get him out of the tub and back into bed. It feels as if he’s been stuck inside his head, arguing with himself for what feels like weeks instead of mere hours.

 

But now he’s almost out of time, with only a couple hours left to be with Cas.

 

He doesn’t even try to deny himself the comfort of Cas’s touch, not now. As soon as Dean lays down on his side, all he has to do is scooch back and touch Cas’s hand to give Cas the signal to spoon him. Only this time, the way Cas automatically presses himself to Dean’s back to cradle their pup instinctively has him tearing up with sadness instead of happiness. Cas didn’t need much prompting to wrap his entire being around Dean.

 

What the hell is he _doing?_ Him and the pup never would have made it this far if not for Cas. Cas had given them a reason to wake up in the morning and _try_ to be a better person, a better father then his before him. Leaving now, especially with a pup on the way, just doesn’t seem like even a remotely good idea.

 

Yet at the same time, he felt like he desperately needed some time to think things over and be on his own. Love is kind of a big deal. Or a huge deal. Or maybe a deal breaker kind of deal.

 

He’s never been in this kind of situation before, but he’s almost positive his immediate reaction shouldn’t have been fear and a sense of overwhelming sadness. He’d never had this kind of connection with another person, let alone actual _deep,_ intense, excruciating feelings for. So the sadness he felt was mindboggling. After hours of thinking about it, he still couldn’t fathom why, either. It was as if almost instantaneously, right after those words had left Cas’s mouth, he knew he had to go.

 

Call it self-preservation, an identity crisis, or just plain stupidity, he was leaving today. It is an absolute fact, one that he could feel in his gut. Regardless of the way he was clutching Cas to him like he was never letting go. Regardless of the fact that Cas made him the happiest he’s ever been in his life. Regardless of every instinct he’s ever possessed telling him to reconsider….

 

The seconds, minutes, hours drag on.

 

By the time Cas wakes up, he’s got himself worked up so badly he can feel Cas immediately stiffen behind him, puffing up and looking around as if searching for some hidden threat to Dean.

 

“Dean?” he rasps, leaning in to nuzzle the side of his neck. “What’s wrong?”

 

But he can’t say. It’s too soon- he can still have the whole day with Cas if he plays his cards right and pulls his shit together. Articulation of his feelings and desires had never been his strong suit, and he couldn’t afford to lose any of his remaining time with Cas.

 

“Nothing, I’m good,” is all he can think to say, knowing immediately that Cas won’t buy it. It’s kind of a pathetic lie, and his scent will only given him away more. “I- I just couldn’t sleep last night. It’s messing with me,” he tries to cover. It’s half-way believable, because it’s true. While not the root of the problem, lack of sleep would definitely throw him off in any other situation.

 

There’s a pause of silence for a beat, Cas considering this while rubbing his thumbs in overlapping circles close to Dean’s belly button. Then he sighs, a sad sound more than understanding, confusing Dean for a second before he’s distracted by Cas’s breath tickling his neck.

 

“Your scent...” he hesitates. Cas takes a couple deep breaths that resonate through Dean as well. “I’m so sorry, Dean. Why didn’t you wake me?” Cas says softly. “I would’ve stayed up with you.”

 

He closes his eyes and leans back, thankful that Cas hasn’t commented on his clinginess as he’s refused to lessen the grip he has on the tops of Cas’s arms.

 

“You need your sleep,” he sighs. Cas’s affections are like a warm blanket on a winter’s night, comforting and soft, and holding him in all the right places. He can almost feel his muscles starting to relax while his mind continues to whir.

 

“That’s irrelevant. You’re all that matters,” Cas says simply. “Now can we turn you around? Your scent is something else right now. It might help if you scented me more closely.”

 

“Yeah,” he croaks, opening eyes he pretends aren’t burning.

 

They’re naked and pressed together, but somehow Cas still wants him closer. Isn’t that something?

 

He tries to get his hitched breathing under control while Cas scoots back and gently presses his shoulder down, getting him on his back before cradling the opposite shoulder and shifting Dean towards his own chest.

 

He can tell Cas is trying to catch his eye, but when he does, and Dean is able to see the look on his face, it’s enough to have him quickly gripping any part of Cas that he can get and pulling himself in faster, closing his eyes again and pressing his face to Cas’s neck.

 

“It’s ok, Dean,” Cas whispers, slowly wrapping one arm around his back while the other one strokes the back of his neck. “Deep breaths.”

 

“I’m fine,” he mutters unconvincingly, words muffled due to him hiding against Cas’s warm skin.

 

“You’re not.”

 

“I am if I say I am,” he mutters petulantly.

 

Cas pauses a second, caught off guard, and then chuckles quietly. “Your logic astounds me.”

 

“You wanna talk logic?” Dean fires back quickly. “How bout the fact that you make no sense. I can’t… I _can’t_ be the only thing that matters,” his voice breaks. “You matter. You’re always worrying about me and the pup. Do you ever take a second to think about yourself?”

 

“Of course I do. Everyone thinks of themselves, and I am no exception,” Cas says, continuing to stroke the back of his head. “And I’m a selfish being, Dean. That’s why you come before all else. I want you with me always. And I want you to be happy, and loved…”

 

Dean clenches his eyes closed and presses closer to scent Cas. This was supposed to be about Cas.

 

“You deserve the world, Dean Winchester,” Cas whispers to him.

 

“Stop,” he groans back. “Please stop. I can’t- I don’t. You-“

 

“You do, Dean,” Cas says simply, but that’s it. He can probably tell how uncomfortable Dean is, so he doesn’t push any further.

 

They lapse into a tense silence in which it becomes a battle to see who can hold the other more tightly. Dean’s unsure if Cas is feeding off the vulnerability and angst coming from his scent, or if he just needs this closeness as much as he does. But Cas doesn’t let go, and neither does he. Listening to Cas’s heartbeat and scenting him forces their inevitable separation from his mind.

 

After a while, the scent of slick starts to permeate the room- unwillingly he might add- and they’re forced to carefully untangle themselves and take a shower; Cas with a scrunched nose, Dean with red tinged cheeks.

 

Dean’s scent hadn’t lessened in intensity at all, so the entire time, and even after, he’s hovering so close to Dean that it’s as if they hadn’t gotten out of bed at all.

 

When they walk out to the kitchen where Sam and Jess are, both turn their heads to look at them, turn back to whatever they were eating, and then do a double take when Dean’s scent hits them.

 

Dean ducks his head, but not before catching the knowing glance between Sam and Cas that somehow makes him feel worse. Like maybe he should have puked before leaving the bathroom.

 

“Dean?” Jess asks hesitantly. She gets up slowly and comes over to his side, running gentle fingers over his arm. “Are you alright?”

 

He backs away from her touch, instinctively drawing himself back into Cas, who doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around him again. He feels so _off._

 

He flinches again when he sees the hurt momentarily cross Jess’s face before she’s able to hide it. “Fuck. I’m sorry, Jess. The pup’s got me all messed up, I didn’t mean to-”

 

“No. No, it’s okay,” Jess waves him off quickly, aiming a sad smile at him and holding up her hands.

 

“It’s not,” he swallows through a dry throat. His scent is starting to get worse, panic randomly making it’s way through his system at the same time as everything else. He shakes his head as if he could shake off the weird feelings, but the that only makes him realize how close he is to Cas, arms around his stomach, breath tickling the back of his neck.

 

Since he’s already caused a scene before they’d even had breakfast, he pats Cas’s hands before stepping away and heading for the pantry. He doesn’t look back to see if Cas is following him, and he can’t look at Sam and Jess, who he knows are both staring holes into the back of his head.

 

When he grabs a box of cheerios and turns around to see their looks hadn’t wavered, he snaps. “I’m fine. Or I would be fine if you guys would stop staring at me for two fucking seconds.”

 

“Dean, you smell like-” Sam starts to say but Dean swiftly cuts him off.

 

“-Shit. Yeah. I got that,” he says impatiently, almost shoving passed a hovering Cas to grab the milk and a spoon. “I couldn’t sleep. Doesn’t mean you guys have to stare like I’m the newest attraction at the circus.”

 

“Just worried about you, man,” Sam says apologetically. “Didn’t mean to upset you.”

 

“I’m not upset,” he grumbles as he sits down.

 

Cas sets a bowl in front of him and the plops down to his right, his eyes never leaving Dean. At least he’s used to it from Cas. His brother and Jess are a different story.

 

“Clearly,” Jess mutters under her breath, averting her stare but still taking the seat to his left. Sam doesn’t even attempt to look away, but he ignores it in favor of pretending to be focused on eating.

 

Every bite is hard to swallow. He’s not hungry in the slightest, his anxiety making him feel oddly full, so he’s just eating to eat and eating because he knows if he doesn’t that it will undoubtedly raise another red flag for his spectators.

 

He’s gotten through almost the entire bowl of cereal without looking to either of his sides, but he gags on the last bite; catching their attention again. The food is trying to come back up, forcing him to swallow repeatedly to try and keep it down. Cas’s hand finds his back, rubbing up and down, trying to soothe him while he fights watering eyes and overwhelming nausea.

 

“-should I get him a bucket or something?” Sam asks. Dean missed the first part of the sentence, but he’s embarrassed enough about the second part of it that he holds a fist over his mouth to clamp it down and shakes his head.

 

“Why don’t we move over to the couch?” Cas suggests gently, still rubbing Dean’s back. “Lay down for a little while.”

 

“I don’t need to-” he starts to

 

“Sam, weren’t you just saying how you were a little bummed about not getting to watch Elf this year?” Jess asks to which Sam nods quickly. “And it’s not like we could really go anywhere anyway without hitting some major traffic. Not with all that snow. Our flight isn’t until 8. Might as well bunker down at home base and get comfy.”

 

He could see the grateful look Cas was shooting her even as he asks, “Are you sure?”

 

“Of course,” Jess smiles easily. “My ideal day is lazing about on the couch with food, blankets, and company… Maybe,” she adds, smirking over at Sam.

 

“I have to agree,” Cas says. “Depending on the company that is.”

 

Dean rolls his eyes but stands up to place his bowl in the sink and then lets Cas lead him and the others back over to the living room. Just the short walk there makes his churning stomach feel he’s walking on a boat instead of solid ground, so as soon as Cas pulls him down next to him on the couch, he drops his head onto Cas’s shoulder and closes his eyes.

 

He’s not gonnna be real company any time soon. Especially because Cas knows him well enough to immediately start running his fingers through his hair as the other one holds him closer to the heat of his body.

 

He hears maybe the first few lines of the movie before he’s out like a light.

 

 

 

 

 

 

He doesn’t dare stop stroking Dean’s hair in case the cessation of movement causes Dean to wake up.

 

His breaths are slow and deep, but anything that will aid Dean in finding deeper sleep is worth the effort.

 

Dean’s scent is practically causing him physical pain, but it’s not the only scent he can smell dominating the room. It’s silent except for the movie and he’s almost positive that not one pair of eyes is trained on the screen. Sam and Jessica’s concern is too strong to be watching anything other than Dean and himself.

 

“He’s asleep,” he informs them quietly.

 

“That’s good,” Jessica says cautiously, almost like a question. “He needs his rest.”

 

“Cas, what’s wrong with him? I’ve never smelled anything like this, least of all from Dean,” Sam says. “It can’t be a good thing.”

 

“He’s exhausted,” he whispers. There’s a deep pang in his chest at his own words, Dean’s pain cutting him deeper than the other man realized, making him feel like a disappointment, making him feel helpless. “Physically and emotionally.”

 

“What _happened?_ ”

 

Sam’s pointed question has him sighing sadly and closing his eyes. He can’t lie. He won’t. But at the same time what happened between Dean and himself is deeply personal and extremely difficult to talk about.

 

“I told him I love him,” he admits brokenly. He doesn’t open his eyes. He knows what expression will be on their faces, and he expects any kind of response to his statement will be difficult to find.

 

“Castiel,” Jessica whispers.

 

“What does that- _this_ \- mean then? I’m confused,” Sam mutters.

 

“It means he’s going to leave,” Cas says simply. It’s a fact, and he knows it, so clear to see he’s surprised that neither of them had reached that conclusion yet.

 

“ _What?_ ” their simultaneous question is so loud that Dean makes a low sound in his sleep before nuzzling closer.

 

“Shhhh…” he warns, readjusting his hold on Dean so that he can take most of his weight.

 

“Cas, what do you mean he’s going to leave? He’s finally happy for once!” Sam whisper yells, leaning forward to catch his eye. “The last few days and even during thanksgiving you two have been nauseatingly besotted with each other. Leaving now would be a complete 360 after it all.”

 

“You think I want this?” he rasps. “For him to leave me? This is his choice, Sam. Not mine.”

 

“How do you know? He’s still here, isn’t he?”

 

“I knew the second I scented him this morning. I know you can smell it as well,” he hedges tiredly. “To some extent, exhaustion is a factor. And it’s natural to be stressed during pregnancy. But that doesn’t account for the sadness- the _pain_ \- leaking off of Dean. That can only come from an emotional pain too deep for us to see. It’s not difficult to guess his course of action if he’s this upset. It’s fight, flight, or flee, and he’s chosen to flee.”

 

“Isn’t there anything you can do? Just because he’s choosing to flea doesn’t mean you can’t _choose_ to fight.” Jessica pleads.

 

“Dean…” he smiles sadly looking down at that beautiful face tucked into his neck. “Is scared. It’s fear that’s driving him to leave, and the last thing he needs right now is confrontation. That will only make him feel that much worse, and we can’t have that. Of course I’ll try to do my best to convince him otherwise, but forcing him or using any kind of manipulation to make him stay would be an abhorrent misuse of my Alpha status.”

 

“But Cas…he’s going to be a mess,” Sam’s voice cracks. “No matter which way you slice it, Dean is going to get worse. Him being on his own like this is asking for more strife.”

 

“Please. Don’t,” Cas begs. “Don’t say that. I want him to stay like I need my next breath, but Dean has to be able to make his own choices. It’s what he’s fought for for so long, and what he’s so afraid of losing. We’ve had multiple discussions about this very topic. It would be wrong of me to try and force him into staying.”

 

“And if he decides not to come back?” Sam challenges.

 

He closes his eyes again and presses his face against Dean’s skin. He tries to breath, and pretend he won’t be losing this very soon.

 

“We need each other. I can feel it in my heart. I only pray Dean will be able to come to the same conclusion,” he whispers.

 

It’s silent for so long after that, he forgets he was waiting for an answer of some kind until Jessica’s voice comes, warm and reassuring.

 

“I think it’s going to be okay, Castiel. I have faith in both of you.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When he wakes up, he’s no longer in the same position in which he fell asleep.

 

He’s somehow found his head nestled into Cas’s lap facing him, with his legs spread out over the couch. Cas is still stroking his hair, but his focus is on the screen and the rest of the room is silent which he takes to mean Sam and Jess are also similarly entertained.

 

Mind still groggy and disoriented, he forgets about everything that’s happened for a minute. “You’re so warm,” he hums, leaning forward to kiss whatever part of Cas he’s pressed against.

 

Cas looks surprised to find him awake but smiles nonetheless. “I’m glad to be of service, Dean.”

 

“I’m perfectly willing to take you on full time,” Dean murmurs dreamily, letting his eyes fall shut again.

 

“I’ll have to consider my options of course, but I’m almost certain I will be able to accept your offer in the near future,” Cas replies softly.

 

“Don’t wait too long,” he sighs, reaching down to rub his bump. He hasn’t felt him kick at all today, he thinks.

 

But then again he hasn’t been able to think around his depart-

 

His eyes snap open, and it’s only then that he becomes aware of his scent again along with the worry coming off of everyone else.

 

He slept through his time with Cas. He _wasted_ all of it.

 

Tears spring to his eyes all of a sudden, and he’s grateful he can turn his face into Cas to muffle a frustrated sob he’s completely unprepared for. Nobody fucking told him that being pregnant would make him unstable.

 

“Dean,” Cas’s strained whisper comes closer to his ear than before. “Baby, please. Tell me what’s wrong.”

 

“Fuck,” he gasps into Cas’s shirt. It’s damp now, but he ignores it the best he can. “Hormones. Sorry.”

 

“You good, man?” his brother asks from right behind him, making him flinch in surprise.

 

“Back off Rapunzel,” he wheezes through a tight throat. His fingers are still cradling his pup, so he releases his hold to blindly feel around behind him in order to shove weakly at his brother. “Can’t control it any more than you can control those long locks of yours.”

 

Sam chuckles quietly but Cas doesn’t at all, and he’s yet to hear a peep from Jess. He does hear his moose of a brother flop back down to wherever he’d been laying.

 

Hesitantly, he pulls away slightly to look up at Cas again. Cas looks so fucking sad and worried that Dean has no chance of getting his own emotions under control.

 

“My face is leaking,” he tries to joke again as tears continue to leave the corners of his eyes.

 

“I can see that,” Cas slides his thumbs down to wipe them away. “Do you want to tell me the real reason that you’re upset?” he whispers quietly so no one else can hear.

 

“Not really,” Dean mutters, looking away. He should’ve known Cas would be able to see right through him. His breathing catches again, and Cas hugs him close.

 

“I wish I could make everything better,” Cas tells him. “I feel helpless. I hate that you’re feeling this way.”

 

“You can’t,” he whispers. “But that’s not your fault, Cas. I’m broken.”

 

“Not broken,” Cas leans down to kiss his forehead. “Just a little banged up is all.”

 

“Oh yeah?” he murmurs, his stuffy nose making him sound gross. “Got me all figured out?”

 

A strange look passes over Cas’s face. “For the most part, yes….the baby will be our new beginning.”

 

God, he hopes so. There is just so much going on, so much to sort out, that the idea of starting over sounds just as overwhelming as continuing to pick up the pieces of what used to be his life.

 

“This guy?” Dean angles his head to look down at his bump. “Nahhh. This little guy is nothing but trouble.” He can’t help but add, “Just like you.”

 

When he looks up at Cas and catches the _are you kidding_ face he’s sporting, he actually laughs an honest to god laugh with sadness momentarily forgotten.

 

“Okay, okay. Maybe he didn’t get that trait from you,” Dean conceded, still chuckling. He sobers up when Cas reaches down to palm the side of his belly.

 

Cas doesn’t say anything, but then again he doesn’t have to. The look of wonder and longing speaks for itself. It actually reminds him a lot of the look Cas gave him when he was trying to convince Dean all those months ago to keep the pup. He never would’ve guessed they’d end up here.

 

“We’ll have to take you in soon for another ultrasound,” Cas finally says. “And Anna will probably want to check up on you again just to make sure everything is as it should be.”

 

He nods noncommittally. Concrete plans and planning aren’t possible right now.

 

Cas soothes a hand across his forehead and into his hair.

 

“Are you feeling any better? Perhaps well enough to eat something more substantial?” Cas asks hopefully.

 

“Castiel, we need to get going in about an hour anyway. We could stop by somewhere on the way?” Jess suggests quietly from somewhere on the floor.

 

“We could stop by Gabriel’s?” Cas tugs him up to whisper in his ear, sending shivers down his neck and spine. “Get a slice of apple pie…I know it’s your favorite.”

 

A single tear makes it’s way down his cheek. When he touches it against Cas’s face to make it go away, Cas doesn’t react. “Okay,” he whispers back.

 

When they get back, his time will be up.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Everybody stares at Gabe’s restaurant.

 

People actually _leave._

It’s because of Dean’s scent and he knows it, but knowing that in his head versus seeing it in action is a completely different story.

 

Cas is holding him like he could shield him from the entire universe while Gabriel apologizes profusely, but he’s gone strangely numb to it all. It’s his own fault. All of this is from his choices. How could he be upset at them?

 

The people passing him shoot him sympathetic- even _concerned_ -looks, and he feels bad for _them._ Upset omega has a very distinct scent, _pregnant_ upset omega was apparently ten times worse. Sam and Jess hadn’t been exaggerating this morning. He’s actually vaguely surprised the two of them have stuck it out up to this point.

 

Sam told him very quietly that Dean smells like someone who just lost a loved one.

 

In a way, he’s not wrong.

 

When they get their food and Dean gets his pie, he can only eat a couple bites before he pushes it away.

 

 

 

 

 

The drive to the airport is dead silent- not even the usual strings of classical music to fill in the places words would normally take.

 

His hand is starting to get clammy from how tightly Cas is holding it.

 

It’s fucking snowing outside but they have to blast the air conditioning in order to mask Dean’s scent even a little bit. It’s getting progressively worse the farther and farther they go, more pungent, more depressing.

 

Cas is feeding off his emotions, becoming tense with pent up energy. And so _sad._ It’s a different scent than his own, Alpha scents usually more on the musky side, but it’s still horrible enough that he’s tempted to ask Cas to pull over just so he can hold Cas until he feels better.

 

Despite what he said earlier this morning, Dean knows Cas doesn’t think of himself or his needs nearly enough. He’s too good. Too giving. Cas is just the kind of person that is happy making other people happy.

 

And he felt deeply when someone he _loves_ is in pain.

 

Yet at the same time, there is no point in trying to console Cas when he was very close to making it a hell of a lot worse.

 

Self-loathing hits him hard again, so he closes his eyes and focuses on each individual breath that goes in and out of his body.

 

They started this trip happy and excited- and as Sam had lamented- all over each other. The time spent with Sam and Jess had been amazing up until today, filled with laughter, smiles, and talk of the pup. And now everyone was silent, the two in the back probably regretting coming on the trip in the first place.

 

As if sensing where his thoughts have wondered, he feels a hand on his shoulder. Opening his eyes and turning his head, Jess’s smile is the last thing he thinks he’ll see.

 

“Hey, Dean?” she says quietly. “I don’t know what’s going through that head of yours, but I just wanted to remind you that both me and Sam are always here for you, okay? No matter what.”

 

“No matter what,” Sam agrees, meeting Dean’s eyes and forcing a little smile of his own.

 

Cas squeezes his hand in between them.

 

Saying he’s fine at this point is meaningless. They all know that’s a lie.

 

But he says it anyway, and the car falls silent again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

All four of them are bundled up for the snow- no one more so than Dean- which makes their goodbye at the drop off section of the terminal slightly amusing.

 

Puffy jackets, beanies, gloves, scarfs, and boots. Jess’s cheeks are pink, and he can barely see his brother’s face due to the way his jacket is pulled up passed his chin to shield his face from the frigid air.

 

The commotion around them makes it hard to hear, but as they get Sam and Jess’s luggage and things together and gather close to exchange goodbyes, he distinctly hears his brother whisper, “Whatever you’re thinking of doing, don’t do it,” in his ear right before he pulls away from their hug.

 

They look each other dead in the eye, and for a moment Dean thinks his brother knows what’s about to go down. But that’s impossible, right? Sure, he knows there is something going on, but without all the details the best he and Jess could do is guess.

 

Before he can ask Sam what the hell he’s talking about, Jess is taking his place and hugging him hard through the many layers of their jackets.

 

He’s still got his eyes on Sam when Jess says, “Call us tomorrow, Dean.”

 

His head whips down to look at her. She looks significantly at him and then at Cas.

 

“What do you two know that I don’t?” he hisses, feeling defensive all of a sudden.

 

“Nothing,” she shakes her head sadly. “We just know you. Call. Please.”

 

“You ready, Jess?” Sam had been conversing quietly with Cas, but now comes over to wrap an arm around Jess while he stares Dean down.

 

Yep. Definitely knows something.

 

Nothing he can do about it now. The time for questions is apparently long gone, even though he hadn’t realized how many he has until just now. Sam and Jess have a flight to catch, and all Dean has left is the car ride back and the promise of heartache.

 

“Yeah,” she smiles up at Sam and then turns again to smile at him and Cas. “We’ll see you guys in a couple of months then, huh? When the pup is ready to meet the world?”

 

Dean is rendered speechless but Cas says, “I’m very much looking forward to it.”

 

He nods in answer- yet on the inside he’s reeling. He is nearing the seventh month of his pregnancy already. That meant he only had a very short window to get his shit together. His pup didn’t deserve to come into the world with so much chaos and bullshit. Especially since it’s all coming from him.

 

Not for the first time, he feels extremely unworthy of this baby. Already he is too good, too pure and innocent for Dean. If he carries on the way he’s doing, he’s going to mess up his pup before it even has a chance at making it.

 

Caught up in his thoughts, he watches his family leave without hearing the actual words being spoken between them. He waves, but the motion is stiff and forced. He’s on autopilot.

 

A gloved hand touches his face and he flinches on instinct.

 

“Are you alright, Dean?” Cas worries, letting his hand fall away but refusing to step any farther away from Dean.

 

“Uh- yeah. Sorry,” he mutters, looking around and trying to come out of his daze. “Let’s go, yeah? It’s freezing.”

 

“That’s a good idea,” Cas agrees. He carefully places his hand on the small of Dean’s back to help him in, and this time Dean doesn’t flinch. Especially since he kind of needs the help as it’s getting more and more difficult to see below his bump.

 

When Dean is situated and buckled in, Cas jogs around to the driver’s side and immediately turns the heat to high. Cas pulls out of the airport, and Dean turns to stare out the window.

 

The continued absence of classical music feels significant. So does the fact that neither Cas nor himself reaches over to take the other’s hand.

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s with a sense of dread that Dean follows Cas slowly up to the front door.

 

His time is up, and there’s no sense in lingering any longer.

 

As much as he’d like to stay, the need to flea is stronger- a driving force that feels like it’s pulling him towards his car as if he were a magnet.

 

But how the hell is he going to explain this to Cas? It’s the day after Christmas. And after all Cas has done for him, this seemed like the worst kind pay back. He’s going to be so hurt, so blind sided and-

 

Cas opens the door and walks in about ten steps before his shoulders hunch in and he freezes with his back turned to Dean.

 

A tired hand is wiped over his face.

 

“You’re leaving. Aren’t you?” Cas sighs quietly.

 

He is not prepared to be the one blind sided.

 

His mouth hangs open in shock, and all that he manages to get out is, “How did you-? What?”

 

A bitter laugh comes in response. “How did I, what?” Cas turns around look sadly across at him, crossing his arms and looking way smaller than he has the right to. “How did I know? Or how did I guess?”

 

He suddenly remembers all the cryptic warnings from the airport, and his shock turns to anger. “You knew. All three of you knew, and you didn’t say anything? How?”

 

“What was I supposed to _say_?” Cas says just as sharply. “What were any of us supposed to say, Dean? This is _your_ choice, it’s always been your choice, and I would never try and take that away from you.”

 

“That doesn’t explain how you know,” Dean points out. “Or Sam and Jess.”

 

“Your scent is the opposite of subtle,” he pinches the bridge of his nose, looking like he’s in physical pain. “As soon as I scented you this morning- the loss, the pain, the _sadness_ …” Cas trails off, voice hoarse with emotion. “That doesn’t occur due to lack of sleep. And the way you acted last night….”

 

Now it’s Dean’s turn to cave in on himself, insecure and defensive. “What about last night?”

 

“Did you really think I wouldn’t notice how scared you were when I told you I love you?” Cas whispers.

 

Dean looking away from the intensity of Cas’s stare is answer enough.

 

“That fear hasn’t gone anywhere, Dean. It’s still encompassing you.”

 

“I’m not _scared,_ okay?!” Dean snaps. “That Alpha nose of yours isn’t going to be one-hundred percent accurate every time. You don’t know shit.”

 

“I know you’d like to think that, but would be so very wrong. I know you, Dean. I know what you’ve been through, how you feel about most things, including yourself. And from that I was able to- _correctly_ , I might add- anticipate your current course of action.”

 

“Bullshit,” he whispers, shaking his head. There’s anger building in his chest, but it’s nothing compared to the sadness welling in response to the raw emotion he can read all over Cas’s face. “You’ve known me for _how long_? Six months? Less? Enough time for you to knock me up and use me for whatever traditionalist Alpha fantasy you’ve dreamt up for yourself, I’d say.”

 

Cas hisses and actually take a step back in shock. “ _What_ did you just say?”

 

“You heard me,” he glares, holding his ground. If he’s gonna do this, he’s going to have to leave no room for argument.

 

“How could you,” Cas gapes, looking at Dean as if he’d grown a second head. “ _Ever_ , think that?! How could you ever _say_ that? You know better than that, Dean. I know you do.”

 

“You don’t know as much as you think you do,” Dean scoffs.

 

“I know you’d rather run away from our problems instead of fixing things,” Cas retorts. He still looks winded, like Dean had physically punched him in the gut with his comment. But there’s desperation in his eyes now, and Dean knows what’s coming next before the words come out. “We can choose to fight, Dean. _I_ can, if that’s what you want. I will fight for you.”

 

This isn’t working. He’s going to have to aim deeper if he wants Cas to let him go. There is nothing he’d like to do less than hurt Cas, but that is the only option he’s left with. And unfortunately, he knows exactly how to do that. The only question is whether or not he can live with himself after lying so blatantly to the person he cares about the most in this world.

 

“I’m running because I don’t want to be stuck with you, Cas,” he says quietly, turning towards the door and looking back over his shoulder to look down his nose at Cas. Every words feels like a knife twisting in his heart. “We are not mates. We aren’t anything. You have no hold over me anymore.”

 

“Dean,” Cas breathes, closing his eyes. “You can’t possibly mean that.”

 

He doesn’t, of course, but Cas has to at least feel some kind of doubt at this point.

 

“Think whatever you like,” Dean says simply. “I’m done.”

 

“Don’t leave,” Cas opens his eyes and takes a step forward like he’s going to make a grab for Dean. “If you ever felt something for me Dean, if you ever truly cared- please hear me out. Just because I told you I love you doesn’t mean you have to reciprocate or even that you have to-”

 

Dean cuts him off and goes for the kill.

 

“You think I’m leaving because of my _feelings for you_?” he asks incredulously, throwing his hands out to his sides. “I’d thought I’d made myself perfectly clear, Castiel,” he continues coldly. “I don’t _need_ you. And I certainly don’t love you.”

 

He turns his back on the absolute devastation written across Cas’s face.

 

He ignores the tears pooling in those blue eyes he loves so much.

 

It’s time to go now.

 

He reaches for the door knob, only pausing when he hears Cas’s shaking voice again.

 

“I know what you are doing Dean,” he says. “You’re scared. And hurt. You’re _lost,”_ Cas’s voice breaks. “And so you’re trying to push me away. Be careful, Dean. Because this time, it might just work.”

 

He turns the knob and steps outside without looking back.

 

“Good.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry?


	39. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter I've been dreaming about for a while. Annnnnnnnddddddd....

 

 

 

There is a hand trailing soft fingers through his hair and over his cheeks, over and over again. Occasionally the fingers petting him will move to reverently ghost over his face or neck. Sometimes he can feel barely there kisses being pressed into his closed eyelids, his forehead, and if he’s lucky, his lips. Every touch is ripe with adoration, a gentleness that speaks volumes on the emotion attached to each brush of skin.

 

He keeps his eyes closed, but smiles and leans into the touches.

 

It’s warm here with him; his body heat radiating through him to make Dean’s cold limbs finally relax. It’s been far too cold lately, and he can’t help but try and wiggle closer.

 

The movement jars the pup in between them, and ever so slowly his hands move down Dean’s body until he has both of them cradling his bump.

 

“Cas…” he whispers, unable to keep his eyes shut knowing the face Cas always makes when he touches their pup.

 

When he opens his eyes, he’s suddenly jolted into wakefulness.

 

A ragged, pathetic sound leaves his throat before he can stop it. He props an elbow underneath him and looks around wildly, desperately trying to acclimate himself to his surroundings. He’d _just_ been in Cas’s bed. Surrounded by the man- his scent, his warmth, his touches and sweet breath.

 

He feels like he’s about to throw up again when he comes to the swift realization that he’d been dreaming.

 

Cas isn’t here. He’s completely alone in his shitty apartment, and it’s completely, one-hundred percent his fault.

 

He falls back on to the couch with a heavy sigh.

 

There is no point in getting up, and no point in going back to sleep.

 

He’s been have having the same dream for the last four days. It’s almost worse than a nightmare because when he wakes up, he’s always, always devastated. There’s no relief in sleep or waking. It hurts either way, but the problem is that it is getting harder and harder to get any rest at all as the days go on, so he is forced to take what he can get.

 

Those first few days without Cas, he’d clung to anything with his scent so hard that the scent was now saturated with the smell of his misery. Every room in his apartment was now tainted with it, filled to the brim with that ugly, cloying smell of distressed omega.

 

It was the reason he’s here, stuck on his ass with nothing to bring him comfort except for his pup. Depressed with no where to go and no one to turn to. Despite his pills, he’s still scent dependent. And now that Cas’s scent is gone, his nausea was touch and go, the same went for his sleeping patterns.

 

He doesn’t really recall anything of the night he left Cas’s house or the next day. Nothing but numbness with an underlying sense of self-loathing. After the first day, he’d tried to put Cas out of his mind. Tried to make himself busy in order to forget. It would be easier to function that way, and easier to breath. But as soon as he’d walked into the garage, Bobby had sent his sorry ass packing.

 

“I love you kid, I really do,” Bobby had said, “but I can’t have you in here smelling like this. You’d scare all our customers away, or more likely cause a commotion... And this ain’t healthy,” Bobby scoffed in that worried voice of his, grabbing Dean’s shoulder cautiously. “You look awful. Y’need to get yourself right, boy.”

 

“Bobby, please….” He’d rasped. He had no idea what he was going to ask for, but it hadn’t mattered.

 

Bobby had pulled him into a hug and hadn’t let go until Dean had stopped shaking.

 

It was embarrassing just as much as it was demoralizing. It was even sadder because he had clung to the man for far too long, the comfort of someone else’s touch wasn’t something he’d thought he’d miss. As soon as he’d realized how touch deprived he’d become, he can’t help but think about how Cas spoiled him. He was always touching Dean, holding him, little brushes of skin to let him know he was there, cradling the pup….he missed it all.

 

So he was basically on house arrest. He couldn’t go out in public smelling like pregnant, distressed omega. Not that he’d been straying too far from home or Cas’s house before, but he’d at least had the option to.

 

His life had seemed to revolve around the pup, Cas, and work; endlessly circling those three things with Sam and Jess popping their heads into his inner circle every once in a while. He wasn’t currently speaking with either one of them, so he had nothing to circle but his pup, who could only contribute a well-aimed kick to his bladder every once in a while.

 

There really was no denying it anymore; he’s depressed and deserves to be after all the damage he’d caused.

 

He’d pushed everyone he cares about away, and he shouldn’t be surprised by the loneliness and desolation he’s feeling now.

 

He stares blankly at whatever is on tv, gets up when he has to pee or he thinks he should eat- prays he doesn’t throw that up. But otherwise, he doesn’t try anymore. He deserves to feel this pain and so much more.

 

 

 

 

 

It only takes two more days for him to break and reach out desperately for any kind of solace. Anything to get him out of his own head.

 

Untangling himself from the pile of blankets and jackets he’s got wrapped around him, he carefully hefts himself off the couch and to his feet, only having to stop and steady himself twice before he’s able to gain his balance enough to fetch his laptop from the bedroom.

 

The pup is huge. His stomach ballooned out in front of him, making it so he can’t see the ground or his feet. He’s walking-waddling- a lot more slowly these days in order not to trip or lose his balance. And goddamn- is he uncomfortable.

 

“C’mon pudger,” he sighs quietly, rubbing absently at the bottom of his bump. “Think you’ve gone long enough without hearing your aunt and uncle’s voices.”

 

He’s seen the messages and voicemails of course. Seen them replace the ones previously left multiple times, as Cas, Sam, Jess, Bobby, and even Benny try to reach him. Seen them, and ignored them. He hasn’t picked up his phone or read any of the messages since the night he left Cas’s. He’s not ready to answer them, or even hear his- _their-_ voices. It’s probably stupidly stubborn, but he still ignores his phone, choosing instead to open up his old laptop on the bed and open up skype.

 

He’s got just enough time to drag the few pillows left on the bed over and behind him before there’s a high pitched _bloop bloop bloop_ sound which leads to an even higher pitched ring.

 

Shaking his head at how fast his brother responded to him logging in, he takes in one reluctantly relieved breath before accepting the call.

 

Right away, Sam’s face pops up inches from the camera, concern and stress written all over his face. It’s like being hit with every single one of Sam’s puppy dog faces at once, which is clearly a concentrated effort.

 

“Dean! Finally- you’ve had us all worried sick!” his brother almost shouts. His eyes are roving all over the screen like he’s trying to asses Dean from where he is. “Please tell me you are okay.”

 

He’d felt so betrayed by his brother and Jess after everything that had happened, but the sight of Sam’s face- so concerned and worried- has him blinking away the sudden burning sensation behind his eyes.

 

He won’t cry. He hasn’t yet, and won’t do it now.

 

He drags a tired hand down his face, trying to get his shit together so he doesn’t fall apart again in front of his brother.

 

“Hi Sammy,” he rasps. A shiver racks his body, and he looks around for a blanket before he realizes he left them in his nest on the couch.

 

“Are you alright? Talk to me man,” Sam says, pointedly trying to regain his attention. “I haven’t heard from you in a week.”

 

“Gee- I wonder why,” he says with a roll of his eyes.

 

Sam doesn’t even blink at his sarcasm. “This isn’t even remotely funny, Dean. I don’t care if you’re pissed at me, I don’t care if you hate me. You and your pup are extremely important to me- and Jess by the way- and the least you can do is let us know that you are okay. You can’t just drop off the grid like that, man.”

 

“The least _I_ can do?” Dean echoes angrily. “The least you could do is have _my back._ But I guess that’s too hard for you, huh?”

 

“I have your back,” Sam retorts, eyes squinting dangerously. “That’s why I told you not to do whatever you were thinking about doing. Because I knew what it would do to you, and I was _right_. Look at you, Dean. You look horrible.”

 

He’s got his laptop perched on top of his bump, so the screen wobbles when he flinches back from Sam’s words.

 

Yeah okay, he wasn’t looking his best, but it wasn’t his fault the pup was taking it’s toll on his body. And emotions. And actions. Who the hell does Sam think he is?!

 

“I’d like to see you try and carry a pup inside of you for fucking-“

 

“-Don’t try and blame the pup for this, Dean,” Sam cuts in before he can finish his sentence. “You have deep bags under your eyes from lack of sleep. You’re pale and sickly, Dean- and god- _is your nose bleeding_?”

 

Dean blinks and wipes absently at his nose, surprised to find that Sam is right.

 

“Fuck,” he groans, reaching over to grab at the strategically placed box of tissues on his nightstand. He brings a wad of them up to his nose to try and stem the flow of blood. “That’s been happening when it gets too cold. Goddammit, I knew I should’ve brought some blankets with me,” his voice comes out muffled and gross, only causing Sam’s face to become even more worried.

 

It’d happened the first time a few days ago when he’d stepped outside for all of two minutes to pay the delivery guy. Once second he was fine, and the next he could taste the coppery bitterness of blood on his tongue and smell the fear from the dude dropping off his food.

 

At first, he’d panicked. Not even bothering to grab his food before slamming his door on the poor guy’s face and scrambling inside. With a wash cloth to his nose, he’d decided to do some of his own research rather than to call anyone for help like he would have done in the past. It’d been happening on and off since then depending on how efficiently he bundled himself, but apparently it was actually pretty common.

 

Not for the first time he found himself longing for the warm things he’d left at Cas’s. His soft sweaters he’d gotten for Christmas, that thick blanket Cas always wrapped around him because he knew it was Dean’s favorite. Cas himself….

 

“Dean….” Sam says sadly.

 

“It’s fine, Sam,” he insists, his voice still muffled. “Has to do with temperature during pregnancy. Google it.”

 

“I don’t need to. You know as well as I do that it shouldn’t be like this,” Sam says. “You need your Alpha-”

 

“-He is _not_ my Alpha,” Dean spits, sitting up with some difficulty in order to glare down at the screen.

 

“Dean-”

 

“No, Sam. Don’t even go there,” Dean continues, talking over whatever Sam was trying to say. “I know you’re trying to help, but you are really not. I don’t need him, I was-”

 

“He calls me everyday.”

 

“Wh-what?” he stutters, brought up short.

 

“You heard me,” Sam says gravely, readjusting the camera from his side so that most of his upper body is now on screen. “Every day. Checking in with me to see if you’re alright. He’s desperate, Dean. The guy just wants to make sure you and the pup are safe.”

 

Dean closes his eyes against the image of Cas, sad and alone trying to get ahold of him with no success. He knows Cas is a worrier, impossibly concerned over the littlest things, always trying to protect Dean from anything and everything that has the potential to harm him. And even though he’d ripped Cas’s heart out and stomped on it right in front of him, he had no doubt in his mind that Cas was climbing the walls as each call and text to him went unanswered.

 

Yet he still wasn’t brave enough to face him.

 

“You know everything that happened then?” Dean whispers.

 

Sam visibly hesitates. “I can take a guess. He wouldn’t say much besides that, ‘It’s Dean’s decision to disclose any information’… But he sounded rough. Almost as rough as you.”

 

Tears are prickling behind his eyes again, and he drops the bloody tissues on the night stand as a distraction. The blood has stopped.

 

“You-,” he starts, but clears his throat when it comes out wrong. He can’t even look at the screen, let alone meet his brother’s eyes. “You know enough to have realized that he’s better off without me, Sam.”

 

“You cannot honestly believe that,” Sam says softly. “Dean,” he tries when Dean rubs a hand over his haggard face again. “Hey man, look at me.”

 

“I can’t,” Dean’s voice breaks. His eyes are watering dangerously now, and he can’t look away from the ceiling. “I feel so….” He gulps through a tight throat, trying to find the words. “You don’t even understand, Sam. God, the things I _said._ ”

 

Sam doesn’t say anything, and he’s afraid to look, so he continues on.

 

“I had to. I had no choice,” his voice is shaking along with his body now, but now that he’s started, the words won’t stop. “He’s too good- god. _Way_ too good for me, man. I would taint him. He’s too good and one day he would realize how fucked he is if he settled with me- and he’d leave anyway. Just like anyone I’ve ever cared about has left me.”

 

He brings a hand up quickly to cover his mouth- a weird sob leaving him at his admission. That’s not something he’d ever wanted to say or acknowledge outside of his head. That thought had been residing in a secret place in his heart for too many years to count, and it almost has the power the break the dam.

 

His breaths are jagged and desperate, a disconcerting sound over the spotty connection to his brother, but even over that sound, Sam’s silence is poignant.

 

When Sam finally whispers, “Dean,” a few minutes later, he still doesn’t have enough control of his emotions to look his brother in the eye.

 

“Dean, it’s okay, you don’t have to look at me. Just listen, okay?” Sam begins gently. “I know we didn’t grow up the same way. Weren’t raised the same either. I can’t imagine everything you’ve been through, and how you must feel. So much has changed since we were kids, but one thing hasn’t. You have always been and always will be my best friend. We may fight, and there will probably be some quiet times, but I will _never_ leave you, okay? Never. That’s just not possible.”

 

Dean has to close his eyes again and bite his lip to keep it in this time; has to focus with everything he has to keep a lid on it all.

 

“Y’know you don’t have to hide from me, right?” Sam says. “It’s okay to cry. I cry all the time, just ask Jess.”

 

He shakes his head quickly, but he can’t help but chuckle wetly at Sam’s attempt to make him smile.

 

“Okay. Well you should also know something else, Dean. I didn’t want to tell you in case it doesn’t pan out, but it seems relevant now…” Sam pauses. “After I found out about you and Cas, I called dad.”

 

 _That_ gets his attention.

 

Sam raises his eyebrows when Dean meets his eyes again, but otherwise doesn’t rise to Dean’s sudden intensity.

 

“I know what you’re thinking,” Sam holds up his hand in a placating gesture. “But it was to let him know that in every way that matters, I no longer consider him to be my family.”

 

Dean gapes wordlessly at him, stunned to his very core, and trying to glean as much information from Sam’s facial expression as he can.

 

“I told him about you. What he’d done to you and the pup… Dean you should’ve heard him,” Sam says. “Dad _cried._ ”

 

“ _What_?!”

 

“I know. I was shocked too. Once he realized that you are pregnant- once he’d realized the implications of what he’d done- he just kind of… _broke._ ”

 

“What does that even mean?” Dean asks incredulously. “And why are you telling me this? I already told you I was done with him.”

 

“It means that he’s not done with you, Dean,” Sam says gently. “He asked me how he could make this right. Begged me to talk to you. But I told him that before anything else, he needs to get help. That he would never have a chance at mending fences if he wasn’t sober. And I told him to think long and hard about the way he treated you.”

 

“Sammy…how?” he wonders aloud, still completely thunderstruck. “When was this?”

 

“The minute I got back to California after leaving your place. I heard from him again a week later when he told me he’d checked himself into rehab.”

 

The John Winchester he knew would _never_ do something like that. Never repent, never apologize, never _cry._ In his entire life- Dean had never seen his dad cry. Trying to picture it was nearly impossible because the idea of John letting himself be that vulnerable or empathetic is ludicrous. Just like the idea of John checking himself into rehab.

 

“Dean…” he starts again, sounding like he’s about to get heavy once more. “You are loved, man. I know what you’ve said about chick flick moments, but I gotta say it. We love you, and I’m absolutely, one hundred percent positive that Castiel loves you too. He told me that you are the best thing that’s happened to him. And whatever this is- it’s not going to change that. Whatever was said can be forgiven. I know it. You just… you need to keep fighting for it.”

 

Dean turns away again. “You didn’t see his face, Sam.”

 

“You tried to hurt him, and you succeeded. Yet he is _still_ calling every day to see if I’ve heard anything from you,” Sam points out. “Does that sound like someone who’s given up on you? Or someone that doesn’t care?”

 

“I just,” Dean says, sighing loudly and shaking his head. “It hurts so goddamn bad. But that makes me hate myself even more, you know? I don’t _want_ to need him.”

 

“Love isn’t a weakness, Dean,” Sam says simply, smiling a little when Dean looks up at that four letter word.

 

“Sam…” he trails off.

 

“Do you miss him?” Sam presses.

 

“….yeah.”

 

“Do you want to be with him?”

 

“Yes, but-”

 

“Do you care about him?”

 

“Of course I do, but-”

 

“-then no ‘buts’, Dean,” Sam says with smug finality. “If what you said is true, then you’ll make it happen somehow.”

 

“…I hate you.”

 

“You love me.”

 

“You do have your moments,” Dean smiles for the first time in week. “Thanks, Sam. I’d always wanted a little sister to confide in,” he pokes teasingly, trying to alleviate the heaviness he’s still feeling deep within his chest.

 

“Anytime, Dean,” Sam says softly. “And I mean that. It’s your decision on what to do in regards to Cas. And dad for that matter. But you don’t get a choice on whether or not to shut me out. Not anymore. Next time you go for that long without contact, I won’t be stopping my mate from buying an airplane ticket this time.”

 

“I am so telling Jess that you ratted her out.”

 

“Good. You can tell her when she calls you. As soon as I tell her you called, you won’t be able to shut her up,” Sam chuckles fondly.

 

“I’m looking forward to it.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He gets maybe three hours before the sounds of blooping and ringing starts up again. He’d brought the computer to the living room just in case, but it’s still a struggle to find his way out of his nest in order to grab it. When he finally gets it open, he sees the same picture of Sam and Jess that had popped up with the last call, only he knows for a fact that it’s not Sam calling this time.

 

He sighs before accepting the call.

 

“Look. I know you probably want to talk but I _just_ - _”_

“-Just talked to Sam. Yeah, I heard,” Jess smiles a little. It’s still light out in California, the sun shining through the window making Jess look extra blonde. “I’m proud of you for calling, and I won’t pester you anymore today. I just want to be here with you. Is that ok? What were you up to?”

 

He feels his face soften at her genuine interest, and he finds himself turning the computer until it’s pointed at the tv.

 

“No good, obviously.”

 

“Oooooh what are we watching?” he hears Jess’s voice raise in excitement. “Our cable is down for the week, so I’m down for just about anything.”

 

“Murder mystery or the cooking channel?”

 

“That’s a tough one. I’m gonna have to go with the cooking channel. Unless Guy Fieri is on. I don’t know what it is about that guy, but I can’t stand him.”

 

“Nobody can, Jess. Nobody can.”

 

 

 

 

 

Over the next few days, Sam and Jess call or skype him on rotation. Even when New Year’s eve and day comes to pass(which made him feel even more pathetic and sad). But it’s such a relief to his depressing loneliness that he doesn’t question it or complain about being coddled. Plus he read the book. _What to Expect When You’re Expecting_ had warned against being alone during pregnancy, and since he couldn’t leave his place, this was the next best thing.

 

Although it did have its downsides.

 

He and Jess had been watching a movie when he’d fallen asleep. Since she was pointed at the tv, he couldn’t see her and she couldn’t see him. So when he’d had a nightmare- that included flailing and unconscious sounds- Jess freaked out; waking him up with her shrill yelling.

 

By the time he got himself up and turned the computer around, she’d left the screen to go call Sam.

 

Ever since then, the two of them have been subtly(or not so subtly) encouraging him answer the phone when Cas calls.

 

“Just listen to what he has to say,” Jess begs for the thousandth time. “Even if it’s just the voicemails I know he’s left you.”

 

“Jess, _no.”_ He says firmly.

 

“He hasn’t called again since Sam told him you called us. That was a week ago, Dean. I’m worried about him, and more importantly, I’m worried about _you,_ ” she presses.

 

“Can you just…not,” Dean sighs in exasperation. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

 

“I know you don’t, but if I don’t make you then you’re only going to keep wallowing in self pity. And you may never get your head out of your ass,” Jess deadpans unflinchingly.

 

“Why did I think calling either one of you was a good idea?” he grumbles.

 

“You know I’m right, Dean.”

 

“I also know you’re full of shit.”

 

“I’m going to hang up on you,” she warns, rolling her eyes.

 

“No you’re not.”

 

She huffs a laugh at him and then narrows her eyes and looms close to the camera. “You’re right I’m not. But maybe you should, Dean. Are you wearing the sweater you’ve worn for the past three days? When was the last time you did your laundry?”

 

He lifts the sweater to his nose and takes a curious sniff. He shrugs and pulls the blankets around him tighter. “Well it doesn’t smell bad yet.”

 

“That does _not_ answer my question.”

 

“Dude, the laundry machines are on the first floor. I’m on the third,” he scoffs. “Besides, like I said, it doesn’t smell bad.”

 

“All of your things probably smell, Deanie Weenie,” Jess says sadly, resting her chin on her hand. “You’re probably just used to scent.”

 

He grimaces as that, but doesn’t argue. If he can’t smell Cas anymore, that probably means his own- disgusting- scent was blanketing everything in his apartment. Maybe Jess had a point…

 

“But stairs,” he winces. “Do you know how hard it is to get around like this?”

 

“No,” she admits, scrunching her nose in sympathy. “Just take your time. You could probably use some fresh air.”

 

“It’s 10pm here,” Dean points out with a raised eyebrow.

 

“Oh jeez, I forgot the time difference. Yeah, definitely wait till tomorrow. If you’re struggling already, there’s no use in making it more difficult for yourself. And you need to be super careful, Dean.”

 

“I hear you,” he says distractedly.

 

But he’s already thinking of how much he could fit into one load. There is a lot of clothes that he could wash, but he is making one trip. No way is he getting up and down those stairs anymore they needed to.

 

A few minutes must’ve passed with him not responding because Jess says his name like it’s not the first time she’s said it.

 

“Hmmm?” When he looks down at the screen again, he’s surprised to see Sam staring back at him as well. “Hey, Sam.”

 

“Hey man. What were you thinking about just now? You kind of zoned out,” Sam says.

 

“Nothing,” he dismisses quickly. “Tired. Think I’m gonna hit the hay.”

 

“You sure?” Jess asks with a note of worry in her voice. “When was the last time you went to bed this early and slept through the night?”

 

“Okay, _mom_ ,” Dean laughs. “Who’s the real parent around here?”

 

“Oh god, you’re right,” Jess groans, covering her face while Sam laughs. “That was totally my mom voice, wasn’t it?”

 

“Don’t worry babe,” Sam smirks down at her. “It was still hot.”

 

“ _And_ that is my cue to leave,” Dean inserts quickly. “Bye guys.”

 

“But-”

 

Before Jess can say another word, he has his laptop closed and fighting his way to his feet.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s closer to 11 than 10 by the time he’s ready to go downstairs. He’d underestimated just how difficult it would be to hold an actual laundry basket with a very pregnant stomach already in the way. It took way longer than he would like to admit to figure out how he is going to hold it and walk at the same time. And that’s not even factoring in the stairs.

 

He has to leave behind much needed layers in order to be able to grip the basket properly, but since he’s going to try and get in and out of the cold as quickly as possible, he isn’t too worried about it.

“Alright, little man,” he smirks down where the basket is braced against the front of his belly. “Let’s do this.”

 

Dean shivers against the brisk night breeze, but waddles forward anyway.

 

He can’t see anything in front of him, so he grabs the railing with one hand and angles his body so that he can take the stairs- tilted to the side- one by one. His body is a little achey, a little stiff, so each stair presents a new challenge.

 

Before all this mess had happened, Cas was on his ass going up and down the stairs. One hand gripping one of Dean’s while the other was supporting his back. At the time he’d found it kind of irritating- because he could do it himself, dammit- but now he missed the support; the surety that came with Cas’s grip, and the comfort that came with knowing that Cas would be there to catch him if he fell.

 

Now it takes him about three times longer than it would a normal, non-pregnant person to go down one flight of stairs.

 

And there’s still two more after this one.

 

He’s grunting with effort now, knuckles white, as his grip on the basket starts to slip. The part where it’s braced against him has started slipping down along with the material of his long sleeve as the jarring motion of the stairs keep rocking it.

 

He’s on the second flight of stairs when he feels the basket start to tip inwards, preparing to dump all of his clothes down his front.

 

Letting go of the railing, he scrambles to catch the basket with his other hand, determined to save himself another longer than necessary amount of time struggling to pick up all the miscellaneous pieces of clothes. While all this is happening, Dean’s still _moving_. Not thinking about where he’s putting his feet, not even trying to see in front of him farther than the basket.

 

 _Just_ when he’s readjusted his grip- he takes another step down- something _twists._

 

There’s a sharp pain in his ankle that shocks him and has him automatically dropping the previously saved basket, and then his momentum is taking him down and back, crumbling until he lands hard on his ass. Falling didn’t hurt, but since he fell so hard and suddenly, he can’t even brace himself before he’s sliding- hitting every step as he does so- down the stairs.

 

It all happened so fast.

 

When he lands at the bottom of the stairs in heap, he numbly looks back up and counts seven stairs covered in all of his clothes.

 

It’s weird that the first thought he’s able to process is the fact that t didn’t matter that he’d caught the basket before. He would end up needing to pick them up anyway.

 

His heartbeat is like drums in his ears, his breath coming in painful gasps.

 

There is a heavy weight on his chest at the same time as his mind shuts down. He can’t think about anything other than two things.

 

With shaking fingers he lifts up his shirts to look at his pup. The skin is still unblemished. Carefully he runs his fingers over every inch of his belly, taking mental inventory of any possible injuries. When he realizes that he’s uninjured, that the pup is fine, something snaps inside of him.

 

He’s so goddamn lucky. And that thought only petrifies him even more, incapacitates him to the point where he couldn’t get up from where he’s slumped against the stairs even if he’s wanted to.

 

If he’d fallen forward instead of backwards….

 

He could’ve….just like that….he could’ve just lost his baby.

 

He knows he’s in shock, knows he should move, but he _can’t._

Which brings him to item number two on his vey short list of things to think about when everything goes to shit.

 

He needs Cas.

 

He needs Cas now.

 

Everything else doesn’t matter. None of his reasons from before matter, and neither does his pride.

 

Even if he’d never looked at any of the messages or listened to the voicemails, he always keeps his cellphone on him in case of emergencies. When he clumsily fumbles the thing from his back pocket, he doesn’t hesitate to press the first number on his speed dial.

 

His breathing is still heavy and jagged, so he bites his lip hard in order to hear each and every ring.

 

He’s shaking all over at this point. Closing his eyes, he clings desperately to the rings, counting them in his head and realizing that Cas has _never_ let his phone ring more than three times the entire time he’s known him. God, Cas must _hate_ him.

 

On the seventh ring- right when he’s about to end the call in astonishment, there’s silence on the other end.

 

Dean’s got one arm wrapped around his belly, his head tucked as close to it as possible, while his other hand clutches the phone to his ear desperately. He holds his breath.

 

Finally, after a torturously long second, the voice he’s missed so much comes through the line.

 

“…..what do you want, Dean,” Cas sighs, exasperation and irritation clear in his voice.

 

What surprises him the most though is the _bitterness_ he can hear from Cas.

 

He holds the phone away from him to gasp in as many breaths as possible- trying to take the desperation out of it- but he knows before he brings the phone back to his face that he’s failed.

 

“I-I- I’m,” he gasps, clenching his eyes closed tight in an effort to calm himself down enough to speak. It doesn’t help in the slightest. Panic is crawling up his spine, all of it hitting him at once.

 

“Dean?” Cas says sharply. “Dean, what’s happening? Are you okay?”

 

Dean swallows repeatedly, his tongue feeling heavy and uncooperative. “I’mmmm. S-s-so. Sorry. I can’t,” he stutters, breaking off when he needs to take a minute to breathe again.

 

“You’re scaring me, Dean. Where are you?” Cas whispers roughly. Now all he hears in Cas’s voice is fear.

 

“Stuck,” Dean manages to murmur.

 

“You’re stuck? Where are you stuck, beautiful? Can I come where you are?” Cas is speaking so quickly, Dean almost doesn’t hear the term of endearment that Cas has made all his own.

 

But he does.

 

He takes a deep, steadying breath.

 

“Cas I,” he whispers, hesitating. “Fell. I fell down the stairs.”

 

“Oh god, Dean,” Cas whispers back.

 

“M’fine. Not hurt,” he says, almost smiling at the relieved breath Cas blows loudly into the phone. “Can’t move, though.”

 

“Don’t try. I’ll be there as fast as I can, Dean,” Cas promises, and then the line cuts out.

 

He lets his head falls to the side to rest against the stairs, but he doesn’t lower his phone. Instead he forces his numb fingers to scroll down in order to open up his voicemail.

 

Closing his eyes again, he presses play and listens to the automated message system rattle off the date of the first message.

 

_Message received at: 12/27/15. 9:30am._

He hears a long sigh before Cas must’ve hung up, because the next message begins immediately.

 

_Message received at 12/28/15. 9:56pm._

_“Dean…it’s been a few days and no one has heard from you…Just let me know that you are alright.”_

Click.

 

_Message received at 12/30/15. 12:02pm._

_“I realize that you do not wish to speak with me. That’s fine, Dean. A text. Anything to confirm that you are okay. That’s all I ask of you.”_

Click.

 

_Message received at 12/31/15. 7:15am._

_“Dean, I just want to apologize. I said a few things to you in the heat of the moment that I did not mean. I’m certain you did too. Well…I’m praying you didn’t mean any of the things you said actually….I’m so sorry, Dean. For any of the pain I caused you. I’m sorry that I let it come to this. Please, Dean. Answer the phone. I need to hear your voice…”_

Click.

 

_Message received at 12/31/15. 11:25pm._

_“I’m. I’m struggling to understand. Please let know if I have any of this wrong. I spill my heart to you. Offer to give you everything that I am. Beg to be with you. And then you all but rip my heart out. You left and took the pup-our baby- from me as well…All I’m asking for is to let me know you’re okay. A phone call. A text. That’s all I want. And yet you can’t even give me that….Do you… do you care so little? Do I really not matter to you, Dean? Maybe I’m deluding myself in thinking that you didn’t mean those cruel words that you said to me…”_

Click.

 

His chest hurts so much more now, and his breathing starts to come out as pants once again.

 

It was impossible- in that moment- to hate himself even more.

 

_Message received at 1/1/16. 2:00am_

_“Happy new year, Dean…” Cas whispered._

Dean is horrified to hear Cas taking broken, gasping breaths.

 

_“I miss you. So much. I’ve been calling this voicemail just to hear your voice…And yet, it hurts every time that I do. I didn’t realize your absence from my life would be this excruciating.”_

Cas pauses again, only this time, he catches the distinct sound of glass breaking in the background.

 

_“I shouldn’t be saying any of this. I don’t want to upset you any further….Excuse me, I have not been getting adequate sleep…And I am currently heavily intoxicated- which also- does not help my situation. But I could not bare the thought of not bringing in the new year with you, Dean. There is nothing I want more at this moment than to hold you…”_

Cas sniffs hard likes he’s talking through tears, and it’s only then that Dean notices his own sliding slowly down his face. The first time he’s allowed himself to cry in over two weeks.

 

 _“Listen…I don’t. I do not care in the slightest that you don’t need me… I thought about all the instances in which I was trying to prove that you did. All those times I promised never to leave you, the times I held you in my arms to keep you safe and cared for, the times where it got really difficult to wake up in the morning…But all of that just made me realize how much I need_ you _, Dean.”_

Cas is sobbing at this point, and Dean has to resort to biting his lip again to hear over his own wounded, broken sounds. He’s never heard Cas like this before, and he never wants to again. Cas is too precious, too good, to ever feel this kind of pain.

 

_“I- I underssstand that this is selfish and wrong. I do, Dean. I really do. But if you can ask me not to leave you, then why can I not do the same? Please, Dean. There’s- there’sss this emptiness inside of me. I need you. I love you so much, Dean- please just-”_

Click.

 

How could there be more? How could Cas keep going after this? He would’ve probably given up at this point, if he were Cas, but there’s one more message.

 

_Messaged received at 1/2/16. 10:10am_

_“Hello, Dean….I do not recall the exact words that I said to you yesterday, I’ve only just slept off the last of it. But I am going to go ahead and assume that whatever I said was uncomfortable and uncalled for. I’m sorry, Dean. For this, and for everything. I will respect your silence and cease my insistent badgering. If I don’t hear for you in the coming days, I won’t call you again….”_

Click.

 

That was almost a week ago.

 

No wonder Cas sounded so bitter when Dean called him. It’s a miracle he’d even answered at all.

 

He’s still got the phone to his ear when he suddenly hears someone pounding up the stairs.

 

Cas turns the corner quickly, and then that’s when their eyes meet.

 

All he can see is blue.

 

They’re frozen. Both of them, Dean slumped over the stairs with the stupid phone still clutched to his ear, and Cas, standing there, mouth agape, and fear radiating off of him. Staring at each other.

 

A sob bubbles up from out of Dean’s throat, shattering the stillness.

 

It’s like they were both waiting for a sign, some indication that it’s okay to move.

 

Cas is quickly closing the distance between them at the same time Dean is raising his arms out to reach for him. Cas doesn’t stop, doesn’t even hesitate before he’s dropping to his knees and cradling Dean.

 

“Oh god, Dean,” Cas is whispering over and over, while Dean sobs out a litany of, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

 

Cas is holding him so tight, his warmth and scent all but smacking Dean in the face.

 

He panics when Cas tries to pull away, his grip turning to claws when he feels the movement, but Cas sounds just as panicked now.

 

“Dean, baby,” Cas is saying against the top of his head. “I need to check you over. I have to make sure you’re alright.”

 

“M’fine, m’fine,” he insists, muffled against the warm skin of Cas’s neck. “Just don’t let go ..I’m so sorry, Cas. Don’t go.”

 

“It’s okay, baby. That’s not important now. I won’t let you go, I promise. Just let me check you over very quickly,” Cas says urgently.

 

“I’m not hurt, Cas,” he sighs, exhausted.

 

“You have blood all over your face, Dean,” Cas says impatiently. “And you’re freezing. How long have you been out here?”

 

“How long ago did I call you?” he mumbles in confusion. He’d lost track of time listening to Cas’s heart breaking voicemails.

 

Cas shakes his head and gently reaches around himself to detach Dean’s stiff fingers. “Too long.”

 

He leans down to kiss Dean’s forehead before using his sleeve to wipe up some of the blood and tears.

 

“What hurts, Dean? Tell me where you feel pain,” Cas says, getting to his knees again in order to crawl along Dena’s shaking body, running his hands over his back, his legs, stopping again to run his fingers all over the pup. He looks stressed out and worried.

 

“Nothing hurts,” Dean rasps. “I got lucky. Cas….Cas I could’ve lost our-”

 

“Shhhhh…” Cas moves to scoop Dean up this time, placing him against his body and tucking him under his chin. “You’re okay. It’s okay now. You and the pup are safe.”

 

Dean refastens his grip in Cas’s jacket, this time, refusing to let go. He won’t be stupid enough to let this man go ever again.

 

“I didn’t mean any of the things I said,” he whispers, closing his eyes when Cas starts to stroke his hair and back. “I’m so sorry, Cas. I’ve never lied so badly in my entire life… I need you so goddamn bad, Cas. I need you more than anything.”

 

“I know, my Dean,” Cas whispers back. “I know.”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ......there you are. I expected a backlash after the last chapter,people telling me this and that. Whatever. That is YOUR opinion. You can stop reading at any time, it's as simple as that. I won't be changing my story, the one that I've envisioned- because you don't like something about it. I'm going to keep doing it the way I want. The way I see it! .....although I do apologize to the person who said, "it's my fucking birthday." Lol, it's ironic because you made my day! 
> 
> Ok! Done with negativity! Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter! I know it was a long one :)


	40. Chapter 40

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;)

 

 

 

Cas just holds him for a minute more, letting Dean press his nose against his neck, scenting him and breathing him in. He only starts moving again when Dean shivers so hard that even Cas’s limbs quiver.

 

“Dean,” Cas murmurs into Dean’s hair. “We need to get inside. Can you wrap your arms around my neck? I’m going to lift you on the count of three. 1….2….. _3-”_

Dean’s pretty sure he’s still in shock, because he doesn’t even try to argue. He readjusts his grip so that he can wrap his arms around Cas’s neck like he was told to do, and then hangs on for dear life.

 

Cas shifts him forward so he can get to his knees before he heaves him up-arms tightening around him-and grunting loudly as he takes all of Dean’s weight. But he’s just too _big._ Too heavy for Cas, and Dean closes his eyes and holds his breath when Cas’s hold seems to dip.

 

“Hey,” Cas whispers, bumping his nose against Dean’s cold cheek. Dean refuses to open his eyes, but presses his face to Cas’s chest, tense and nervous after the last forty-five minutes. “It’s okay, Dean. I’m not going to drop you.”

 

That’s not what Dean is worried about. Cas is a sure thing. And unlike all the other times that Cas has picked him up, he’s actually able to whisper, “I trust you,” and mean it whole heartedly.

 

He makes himself take a deep breath of Cas’s scent, and focuses on relaxing as much as he possibly can in Cas’s hold. He can feel Cas’s surprise for a full second before Cas is kissing the top of his head quickly and carefully stepping up the first stair.

 

Cas has to go slowly- slower than Dean went down them actually- taking each step with precision and waiting at the top of each until he’s balanced and properly shifts their weight and momentum before taking the next one.

 

They don’t talk on the way up, which makes it easier for Dean to hear how labored Cas’s breathing becomes by the time they reach the top of the first set of stairs.

 

So labored that Cas turns and sits on the third stair of the next flight with Dean in his lap while he tries to catch his breath.

 

“Cas,” Dean mumbles through numb lips. “It’s fine, I can walk.”

 

Cas just cradles him closer. “I promised you that I wouldn’t let you go, and I meant it,” he says breathily to the top of Dean’s head. “And I would like to check you over in proper light before anything else.”

 

He thinks he can hear a smile in Cas’s voice, but when he untucks himself from Cas’s chest and looks up, that smile immediately disappears.

 

“Jesus, Dean,” Cas swears loudly, gripping dean tight again and getting to his feet.

 

Confusion keeps him from closing his eyes again when they restart their ascent.

 

“What? What is it?” Dean asks him.

 

“I need to get you inside as quickly as possible,” is all Cas says. He doesn’t look down at him again, and he doesn’t elaborate or explain why they’re taking each stair faster and faster.

 

They get to the top twice as fast as the last flight, and Cas waddles his way to Dean’s door, panting, before he stops at the front of it to grunt at Dean to open the door.

 

When he complies and they’re through the threshold, he can feel Cas flinch and practically gag even though Cas tries to hide it. But when he presses his nose to Dean’s hair while they waddle slowly to the bathroom, Dean guesses that the scent of his apartment is not particularly welcoming at the moment.

 

Cas knows his way around Dean’s place well enough that he doesn’t need to turn on any lights. He’s breathing like he just sprinted five miles, but he still takes the time to place Dean on the counter like he’s made of glass before pretty much collapsing against it, bracing himself on either side of Dean, pressing his sweaty forehead against his own freezing one.

 

Cas closes his eyes, and immediately a laugh that could really double as a sob makes it’s way out of his throat.

 

“What?” Cas pants without opening his eyes.

 

“How many times have we been in here like this? It’s like déjà vu,” he rasps, feeling wired at the same time as overwhelmingly exhausted.

 

That gets Cas to open his eyes. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” he chuckles quietly, shaking his head minutely. The motion stops when their eyes meet and linger.

 

Something shifts in Cas’s eyes then, and he quickly reaches for the light switch; flipping it on and ignoring Dean’s startled blinking as he immediately gets back in Dean’s face.

 

When his eyes adjust to the new brightness though, his hands shoot out to reach for Cas in panic. Cas’s neck and chest are coated in blood, and it’s smeared pretty much everywhere.

 

“What the _hell,_ Cas?!” Dean says, voice trembling. “Where are you bleeding?”

 

When Cas catches his hands, he brings them both to his mouth to kiss his fingers gently. “Dean, this is your blood.”

 

Turning quickly to look in the mirror, he realizes Cas is right. That’s why he’d freaked out earlier. That’s also why the blood seems concentrated around Cas’s neck and chest. Because Dean’s nose had continued to bleed steadily even after Cas’s arrival, and he’d been unable to keep himself from scenting him as much as possible the minute they were touching.

 

He is covered in blood.

 

A single finger turns his chin back around to face Cas, and Cas makes a point of maintaining eye contact.

 

“It’s alright, Dean,” Cas soothes, doing a fantastic job of masking the fear and stress he can smell in his scent. “You’re okay, now. I’m going to have you take off your shirt so I can examine you. You tell me immediately if you feel any pain, alright?”

 

“I’m not hurt, Cas,” Dean insists softly. “I know I look like a horror movie reject, but my nose has been bleeding like this every time I get too cold.”

 

“That’s not normal, Dean,” Cas says even softer, stroking over his cheek.

 

“When has anything ever been normal for us?” Dean tries to joke.

 

“Humor me, please?” Cas begs, using those dangerous blue eyes. “Then we can get you warmed up.”

 

Dean sighs but reaches for his sleeve, only a little surprised when Cas pats his hand and reaches for the bottom of Dean’s shirt and starts to roll it up himself.

 

His eyes water a little bit and his throat starts to close up as Cas works the shirt slowly up and over Dean’s head, the movement achingly familiar and just as sweet as the hundreds of times Cas has done this for him before.

 

Cas sets his shirts aside and squats to open the cabinets under the sink, grabbing a handful of washcloths before standing again. Without a word, he soaks them in warm water before using one to wipe gently at the blood on Dean’s face and neck. He’s not quite in Doctor Mode, because the entire time he does it, he’s got that soft look on his face that is distinctly Cas. It takes two washcloths for his face , and another one because of course Cas notices the slow tears rolling down his cheeks and patiently wipes those away too.

 

He missed these careful touches. He missed the way Cas looks at him. His tears are not from pain. The circumstances of their time together are not exactly ideal, but he can’t help but feel painfully relieved.

 

Cas pats his fingers. “Let me see,” Cas murmurs.

 

He’d been unaware that he’d reached up, but apparently his fingers had sought Cas out, because he looks down to see them wrapped tightly in the material of Cas’s shirt. He makes his fingers unclench slowly.

 

Cas takes them one at a time and wipes over the tiny scratches he must’ve gotten when he fell. When Cas looks down Dean’s body and then into Dean’s eyes, he knows immediately what’s coming next.

 

“May I?” Cas asks, a note of pleading in his voice.

 

“Of _course_ ,” Dean hurries to reassure, voice cracking noticeably.

 

Here come those stupid tears again.

 

Cas sighs out a relieved breath, and then he’s bending down quickly to press a hard kiss against the peak of Dean’s belly.

 

He can feel Cas’s own breath puff raggedly against his skin, can feel the way Cas’s fingers shake just a little bit as he runs them all along Dean’s sides.

 

“I missed you, little one,” Cas whispers.

 

Dean gasps hard, trying to stem his tears, and Cas looks up to meet his eyes as he murmurs the words against Dean’s skin. “I’m _so_ relieved that you and your daddy are alright.”

 

Cas presses his forehead against him and says, “I don’t know what I would have done without you both…”

 

“Cas-” he chokes, like he’s going to say something. Nothing else comes out, and Cas doesn’t look up when Dean reaches down to run his fingers through Cas’s hair.

 

It takes a long time for Cas to start moving again, content to just feel him and the pup close for the first time in what feels like forever. By the time Cas starts his examination again, Dean’s got his head back against the mirror with his eyes closed.

 

He lets Cas do his thing, noticing again how achy and sore he is all over. Only more so from the fall. It’s not pain really, but he’s not up to speed by any means. When he winces or shifts in discomfort, Cas lasers in with hyper focus, missing nothing. He makes eye contact again when he feels a small lump on the back of his head.

 

“What part of you hit the ground first?” Cas mutters as he runs his fingers through Dean’s hair and over the back of his neck. “Did your head make contact with anything during the fall?”

 

“My ass,” he smirks, opening his eyes, mere inches away from Cas’s face now. “And yeah. Right when I landed my head clipped the stair behind me. Just a little bit. It didn’t hurt.”

 

“Of course it didn’t,” Cas rolls his eyes like that was the exact answer he was expecting. “What about your back? Your neck? Don’t downplay anything else, Dean.”

 

“I’m all good,” Dean replies.

 

Cas feels carefully over his back and his chest, then takes his pulse and checks his vision before throwing in the towel.

 

“Alright. We’re in the clear for now. I’m taking you in tomorrow for a more thorough analysis. I’m much more concerned about your temperature at the moment. Come on, you’ve been exposed long enough,” Cas says, stepping close. “Lets get you warmed up.”

 

“I can walk,” he says even as he wraps his arms around Cas’s neck. “You said you just wanted to check me over first,” his voice trails off as Cas lifts him again and he heads in the direction of the living room.

 

“I’ve got you,” Cas says simply.

 

“Okay.”

 

Even though it’s a short distance, he still tucks himself against Cas’s chest. When Cas carefully lays him down the couch, it’s with great reluctance that Dean lets him go, probably showing with his eyes how much he hates each inch separating them.

 

“I know,” Cas murmurs as he gathers up all the blankets from the floor and lays them one by one over Dean. “I want to hold you so badly that it hurts.”

 

He drags a chair over close to Dean’s head and sits, reaching over to stroke the side of Dean’s face with sadness in his eyes. Dean can feel his breathing hitch again, but this time he holds it back.

 

“But we need to discuss a few things, and I need to see your eyes when we do so,” Cas says, almost apologetically.

 

“God, Cas,” Dean whispers, closing his eyes and leaning into Cas’s touch. “I understand that this needs to happen. I know that you deserve some answers…but I-I don’t think I can look you in the eye right now.”

 

He reaches up to grip Cas’s hand, clinging to him hard. Cas covers his with the hand not stroking his hair now.

 

“I should have never let you leave,” Cas whispers. “I let this happen.”

 

“What? No, Cas,” Dean says immediately, eyes snapping open again. “This one is all on me. I did this.”

 

Cas is the one to clench his eyes closed this time, shaking his head and biting his lip.

 

“You should never have been left on your own, Dean,” Cas says. “No matter what was said. You and the pup are too important to be left up to chance like that. The risks… I know better than anyone that Omegas are especially vulnerable during their pregnancies and I know better than anyone how difficult yours has been.”

 

“I didn’t give you a choice,” Dean rasps desperately, giving up at keeping his tears at bay. “I made sure of it, Cas. I pushed you away and ran. It’s my fault.”

 

“You were so _scared,_ Dean,” Cas says like each word is painful for him. “The scent around me only reinforces how badly, how awful you feel and felt. _Why_ , Dean? What are you so afraid of?”

 

“It’s not you. It’s not you, Cas,” he says, voice trembling. “I’m. I’m just _scared._ Of what I’ve become. I’m so different, Cas. Can’t you tell how different I am?”

 

“Of course I do,” Cas breathes. “Not just physically. Mentally and emotionally as well. But the changes are _good_ changes, Dean.”

 

“I thought I was okay, I thought maybe I could do this. _Be_ this,” Dean says. He knows he’s squeezing Cas’s hands too hard, but he needs something to give him the strength to get the words out. “But it’s so hard. So hard. It was eating me up inside.”

 

“What was?” Cas asks, squeezing back.

 

“I feel…good,” he begins. “Better than I have my entire life when I’m with you. Good is an understatement,” he breathes, letting go to trace Cas’s face with one hand.

 

“I didn’t know it could be like this,” he hesitates, looking for the words. Cas doesn’t push him, only waits for him patiently. “But Cas- I didn’t _want_ to want this.”

 

“What do you m-” Cas starts to ask, but Dean places a single finger over his lips.

 

“Wait,” Dean presses, biting his own lip for a second. “I just- I gotta say this while I can….there’s this _weight_ on my chest. And it hurts so bad sometimes that I can’t even breathe.”

 

He tries to take a deep breath, looking up at the ceiling before blowing it out slowly.

 

“I thought- growing up, for most of my life- that omegas, male omegas, equaled weakness. Everything they- _I_ \- am was something pathetic, something small and disgusting. Sad.”

 

He can tell Cas is dying to say something, to argue with him probably, but he’s not done.

 

“I know you’ve mentioned it in the past, Cas, but I don’t think you realized how accurately you hit the nail on the head,” Dean mumbles through an increasingly tighter throat. “I hated myself. In my…in my darkest moments I wished…god this sounds so fucking depressing….I wished I’d never been born. Not as an omega, anyway.”

 

Cas turns and kisses the fingers still pressed against his cheek, but doesn’t say anything for which Dean is grateful.

 

“But that changed with you,” he whispers now. “Something changed and I guess I didn’t notice while it was happening. I didn’t notice until you said those words. I didn’t notice how _happy_ I was. Cas. You-you made me _like_ feeling small. You made me _like_ being pregnant, being looked after, being fucking _cherished._ I even like- more than like it- when you’re inside me,” he blushes hard, but still continues, pushing aside his pride for the moment. “I started to realize exactly what I like, _me_ , an omega. Not the me who was pretending to be something I’m not.”

 

“I never thought I’d _like_ being what I am until you, Cas,” Dean chokes. “When you said the words….I just- I just _knew._ Every negative thought, every doubt I’ve ever had about myself came back. How could I like these things now after years of being repulsed by them? And god- the nightmares…”

 

“What nightmares?” Cas asks, concerned.

 

Dean covers his face with one shaking hand. “It doesn’t matter now. I just-”

 

“It does matter,” Cas cuts in softly. “Tell me.”

 

“You told me I wasn’t enough,” he gasps, trying desperately to keep it all together. “That I’d never be enough.”

 

“Dean…” Cas whispers.

 

“It all just…it all just reinforced what I’d already been thinking. Because why would someone like you even give someone like me the time of day? How could you love someone who’s so _broken?_ ”

 

He squeezes his eyes shut again, but it doesn’t help. “You’re _everything_ , Cas….” He sobs. Every word hurts so bad, and he can’t even look at Cas now. “But I knew it was only a matter of time before you see what I see…I had to leave first. I had to, Cas. I hoped it would hurt less…but god, I was wrong.”

 

His last two sentences were probably indecipherable, but it doesn’t seem to matter.

 

Cas gets up from his chair and lifts Dean up enough to get underneath him. Rearranging them until they’re laying with Dean between his legs, and his arms desperately trying to hold him closer.

 

He can’t really see that well through his tears, but Cas guides his head to the crook of his neck- holding him tightly while he cries.

 

“Shhhh, Dean. I’m here,” Cas is murmuring to him over and over. “I’m here. I will _never_ leave you, baby. Never. It’s alright.”

 

It’s like a flood, and he’s drowning in it. All the emotions, all the pain and misery from the last couple of weeks, accumulating in this moment so that’s he’s incapable of anything but pressing himself against Cas as hard as he can.

 

He can feel Cas crying too, wants to comfort him after everything he’d done, but just _can’t_.

 

He tries to cave in on himself- to muffle his ugly sounds against Cas’s neck- but even that is unsuccessful. Cas rubs his back through it all, keeping up a continuous stream of comforting murmurs that Dean feels rather than sees.

 

It’s long minutes later that he can finally hear the words again. Even longer until he’s able to breathe out the words he needs to say.

 

“I’m- I’m so sorry, Cas,” he chokes.

 

“It’s okay, Dean. It’s okay,” Cas says again.

 

“It’s really not,” his words are stilted, mumbled, but he keeps trying as tears continue to fall. “I said stuff. Horrible- _unforgivable_ \- stuff, Cas. I knew it would hurt you. I didn’t- didn’t want to, but I didn’t see another way.”

 

“Do you see one now?” Cas asks him softly, stroking his hair.

 

“I don’t want to be without you,” he says immediately. “I was only thinking about myself before. I wasn’t seeing the bigger picture. None of those things matter anymore. We need you- _I_ need you.”

 

Cas kisses his forehead, then turns his head so that he can scent him back.

 

“I’m sorry, Cas,” Dean says again against the skin of Cas’s neck. “I isolated myself. I didn’t even listen to your voicemails until right before you got here. I didn’t think I deserved any kind of comfort.”

 

“Well that explains a lot,” Cas chuckles a tiny, then he sobers up quickly. “I do want to impress upon you the dangers of isolating yourself with the pup on the way. However I don’t think now is the appropriate time. But I do want to make one thing very clear, hopefully making that particular conversation moot…”

 

He pauses to lean his head back and tip Dean’s head up to meet his eyes.

 

“You are it for me, Dean Winchester,” he says simply. “I will never want anyone else but you. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”

 

Dean tries to bite his lip, but a little sob still manages it’s way out.

 

Cas ducks then and kisses him softly, telling him without words how much he loves him. When he pulls away shortly after, he presses kisses to his nose, his forehead, his cheeks, his chin, and to each closed eyelid.

 

Dean doesn’t open his eyes again. He takes a deep breath- the deepest breath he’s taken in a very long time- and sinks into Cas. He’s never been warmer. And relief easily gives way to a heavy exhaustion, pulling him first into a light doze on Cas’s chest, then into a deep- nightmare free- sleep.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There is a hand trailing soft fingers through his hair and over his cheeks. Just like he’d dreamed a hundred times before. Dreams that turned into nightmares when he woke up because they weren’t real.

 

That’s not what inches him closer and closer to consciousness, but now that he can feel him, he’s afraid of waking up.

 

His hold tightens around him- literally clinging to him like if he clings hard enough they can stay here like this forever.

 

“Dean? Baby, are you awake?” Cas murmurs softly against his cheek.

 

His eyes shoot open and he’s met with Cas’s concerned eyes staring down at him.

 

“You’re really here,” Dean breathes in wonder, reaching up to ghost his fingers against his face.

 

Cas’s smile is a little bit sad. He covers Dean’s fingers with his own. “I’m here.”

 

“Oh thank god,” Dean sighs out in relief. “If you were a dream today, I don’t think I could manage to leave this couch. Which would be interesting because I really need to pee.”

 

Cas’s smile is more genuine this time.

 

“I’m here. And here to help with about a hundred blankets piled on top of us,” Cas says, placing one hand over Dean to keep him in place wile he strips off every blanket but one- which he pulls around to wrap around Dean’s still bare shoulders- obviously meant to be taken with him.

 

Cas lowers one of his legs to the ground and uses it as leverage to help prop them up a little bit. Dean tries to copy him, intending to get up, but cringes back as soon as he moves his foot.

 

“What? What is it?” Cas asks urgently, switching from soft and sweet to alert and concerned at the drop of a dime. “Stay still.”

 

“Left ankle,” Dean manages from grit teeth. Cas gets him propped up enough to get out from behind him, but Dean still can’t see anything with the pup in the way. He can barely see Cas when he squats down my his feet.

 

He can feel it when Cas touches his boots though. He’d completely forgotten to take them off- just like he’d completely forgotten he’d twisted his ankle in the heat of the moment.

 

Cas hisses when he manages to carefully work Dean’s boot off the injured ankle, so he’s guessing it doesn’t look good.

 

“Jesus _christ_ , Dean,” Cas says loudly. “Why didn’t you say something?!”

 

“It didn’t hurt before! I forgot about it,” he mutters defensively. “Is it bad?”

 

“It’s swollen and bruised,” Cas prods gently at it, making him wince. “A probable sprain.”

 

“My ankles are always swollen,” he sighs in exasperation. “One of the many perks of having a bun in the oven…”

 

“Dean, that just means that it will take longer to heal,” Cas tells him.

 

He shifts over to slip his arm under Dean’s knees and back again, lifting him before Dean has time to argue.

 

“Cas, I’m f-”

 

“-Don’t say that you are fine, Dean,” Cas huffs. “You’re not fine. But you will be. Just…Just let me do this.”

 

“Okay,” Dean murmurs, wrapping his arms around Cas’s neck. If Cas is surprised by Dean’s easy acceptance, he doesn’t show it. Only walks the couple of steps towards the bathroom where he visibly hesitates.

 

Cringing internally, he knows he’s gotta take one for the team.

 

“It’s fine, Cas,” he mumbles, feeling his cheeks heat up. “I guess I don’t have anything you haven’t seen before anyway, right?”

Cas looks relieved and apologetic as he nods, stepping through the door and towards the toilet. Cas sets him carefully on his feet right in front and then steps out of the room.

 

“Cas, you goof,” Dean laughs, trying to keep his balance in order to keep his weight off of his left foot. “I meant that you can stay in here.”

 

“I know that, Dean,” he says like Dean is dim. “But I know you better than that. Just go. And please… Don’t fall.”

 

Dean chuckles again and shakes his head. When he’s done relieving himself he eyes the sink that’s three feet to the left.

 

There’s no chance in hell. It’s one thing to stand completely still while practically balancing on one foot- another thing all together to try and hop- seven months pregnant- one footed over to the sink. He rolls his eyes at himself. This is why Cas said not to fall…

 

“Alright, alright. Come back in here and help me,” Dean chuckles reluctantly.

 

His smile widens when Cas immediately turns the corner from where he’d been waiting impatiently, worry plain in his features until he can see for himself that Dean had miraculously managed not to kill himself while going to the bathroom.

 

Cas bends to scoop him up again, sitting him on the counter so that he can wash his hands.

 

Instead of complaining like he knows Cas expects him to do when he’s done, he pulls Cas close and wraps his arms around his back, nuzzling into him so that can get a whiff of that scent. With the pup pressed against Cas, and Cas’s hand moving through his hair, he can’t make himself feel anything other than gratefulness and a cautious contentment.

 

“Your scent is so much better already,” Cas sighs. “Good. Now let’s get that ankle elevated while I make a few phone calls.”

 

Cas lifts him again and carries him back to the couch.

 

“Dean,” Cas laughs when Dean refuses to drop the hold around his neck.

 

“Don’t go,” he whispers. He’d intended it as a joke, but when the words are off his tongue, he’s surprised at how serious he sounds.

 

“I’m not going anywhere, beautiful,” Cas tells him, eyes soft. “I can make my calls right here if you want me to.”

 

He’s even more surprised when his eyes start to water out of nowhere,

 

“What? What is it, Dean?” Cas murmurs, alarmed now, getting down on his knees so that it’s easier to cradle Dean’s face.

 

  
“Woah, sorry,” he rasps. He shakes his head as if to clear it, but that only shakes a couple of tears free. “I wasn’t expecting that. I just felt really emotional for no reason.”

 

Cas starts to say something but then stops himself, biting his lip. He gently untangles himself from Dean’s grip, wincing when Dean makes a noise he can’t hold back. But he only goes far enough to grab some pillows and very carefully stack them under Dean’s foot. Then he’s back.

 

“Here, sit up,” Cas says, lifting Dean’s head.

 

He lifts him just enough to make room for himself on the end of the couch before placing Dean’s head back in his lap, immediately running his fingers through his hair and over his forehead.

 

“This is the perfect spot to make a call, wouldn’t you agree?” Cas murmurs downto him. Dean just nods and closes his eyes, hoping to save himself any further embarrassment.

 

Cas fishes his phone out of hi pocket and then presses it to his ear, keeping one hand focused on Dean. Its loud enough that Dean can hear when someone answers, but quiet enough that he can’t distinguish individual words.

 

“Hi Anna, it’s Castiel.”

 

So he was serious about taking him to see his doctor today….

 

“Yes, and no. He slipped going down the stairs last night- yes, yes, he’s okay for the most part, although he did twist his ankle…. I’m thinking it’s a sprain….yes, is there any way you could see him today?.....I noticed a few scratches on both palms, and a very small bump on the back of his head- yes. Okay, thank you so much Anna….actually is there any way you could get in contact with Pamela for me?”

 

Annnnnnd he’s apparently getting another ultrasound done. Cas’s hand moves to stroke over his cheek when he turns to bury his face in Cas’s shirt.

 

“-and Charlie or someone who can bring a wheelchair out? We’ll be there in about 45 minutes. Yes, okay. Thank you again.”

 

He hangs up, and in the silence, he continues to stroke Dean’s face and hair for a couple of minutes.

 

“Are you ready to get up?” he says, finally. “We have just enough time to eat and change before your appointment with Anna.”

 

“I guess so,” he mumbles against him. “How’d you get me in so fast? Don’t you usually have to make an appointment a few weeks in advance?”

 

“Normally yes, but it’s still very early so she can see you before any of her appointments. Plus, I consider most of the people I work with family and vice versa. Which makes you their family as well. We take care of our family, Dean,” Cas smiles down at him.

 

Dean smiles back and helps Cas as much as possible while he carries him to the bedroom to get dressed. Cas gags again before he can hide it when they walk in, and that seems to set the mood for the rest of the time getting ready to leave. It’s a vivid reminder of everything that’s happened, and a reminder to Dean of how badly he’s screwed up.

 

He has to keep randomly fighting back tears, to which Cas even more confusingly responds by immediately holding him closer like he knows Dean needs to be comforted.

 

“What’s wrong with me, Cas?” he finally breaks as Cas walks him towards the door.

 

“Nothing,” he puffs. “After a separation this far into your pregnancy, it’s going to take your body a little while to get back on track. It’s normal,” Cas reassures.

 

“If you say so,” Dean says, unconvinced. He turns around a little to help Cas with the door, and that’s how he sees it.

 

His laundry basket- with all of hi clothes neatly folded inside- sitting in front of the door.

 

Cas can’t see past Dean, so when he takes a step forward he hurriedly tells him to stop.

 

“You might as well put me down now, Cas. You can’t carry me down the stairs,” Dean prods.

 

Evidently Cas hasn’t thought that far in advance, because Dean catches him grimace.

 

“That’s what I thought. I know we gotta go, but I wanna see this. There’s a note. And we can figure out the stairs in a minute.”

 

“It’s alright,” Dean insists, patting Cas’s chest when he hesitates.

 

Cas does not look happy about it, but he very, very slowly places Dean on his feet, bending quickly to grab the note on top of his clothes before Dean can even attempt to bend over for which Dean is secretly grateful. He hands is to Dean without reading it first.

 

It says, _You’re the only male Omega on the complex. Hope everything is alright. You’re laundry is clean- from your neighbor_

His chest feels warm when he hands the note to Cas.

 

“That’s very sweet,” Cas smiles, placing in back in the basket before dragging the basket inside and closing the door behind them. “I’m glad there’s someone here that looks out for you.”

 

“Yeah,” he agrees. And then looks down at the stairs. Cas does the same.

 

“Dean-”

 

“No, Cas,” he says immediately. “You can’t. It’s okay. I got this.”

 

“I could try,” Cas pleads, wrapping both arms around Dean’s waist. “I don’t want you putting any weight on your ankle.”

 

“How about you support me on the left side? That way you’re not carrying _all_ of my weight?” he hedges hopefully.

 

“You’ll still have to use your left to-”

 

“Cas, did I hear you incorrectly or did I hear you ask Anna to have a wheelchair waiting for me?”

 

“Because you _need_ one, Dean-”

 

“How about we try this- and I won’t make a fuss about the wheelchair. _And_ ,” he adds when Cas opens his mouth to argue, “You can carry me if it gets too painful going down.”

 

He knows he’s won when Cas narrows his eyes.

 

“Fine. But you must promise to let me know immediately if it gets to be too much,” Cas says solemnly.

 

There’s too much worry in Cas’s voice to make a joke of things, so he promises and carefully lets Cas rearrange him so that he’s got his left arm around Cas’s shoulder, Cas’s right arm around Dean’s waist, and Dean’s right hand clasped in Cas’s left.

 

It’s a little painful to put pressure on his hurt ankle but it’s not unbearable. They move slowly, and steadily, with Cas asking him if he’s okay every few minutes or so.

 

They’re both a little winded by the time the reach the third flight of stairs, but Dean stops Cas before they can carry on, and turns to meet his eyes.

 

“I missed you, Cas,” he whispers, smiling.

 

Cas looks down at Dean’s belly before matching Dean’s grin. “I missed you too, Dean.”

 

The rest of the trip down is uneventful as is the ride to the hospital. Cas drives with classical music playing in the background and holds Dean’s hand tightly in his own until they pull into the parking lot.

 

Keeping his word, Dean doesn’t say a word about the wheelchair that’s waiting for him as soon as Cas lifts him out of his seat.

 

And Cas holds one of his hands again on Dean’s shoulder while he pushes it from behind.

 

Not only was Charlie waiting for him, but when they get up to the third floor, Missouri and Anna are waiting by the elevator doors to take turns hugging him.

 

Everyone smiles and is happy to see him. And since it’s early enough, they all follow them to Anna’s office, fussing over him and making sure he’s alright before hugging him goodbye again.

 

It’s really nice.

 

His appointment with Anna is ridiculously long, and he can’t seem to let Cas go, so he stands close enough that Dean can lay down with his head against him on the long reclining table as Anna talks to them both.

 

After she looks him over in excruciating detail, talk shifts to the consequences of his latest mistake.

 

“Dean, I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but I really think it’s best for you to be on bed rest the rest of your pregnancy,” Anna says matter-of-factly.

 

His stomach sinks, and he closes his eyes. Cas had suggested this before, and so had Anna. He’d fought against her when he’d pulled his back, and look where that got him.

 

 

He’s about to give in when Cas surprises him.

 

“I’m more concerned about his mental well-being at this point, Anna,” Cas states, running his fingers through Dean’s hair again. “He’ll be happiest if he can work. I fervently agree that he needs to be off his feet as much as possible, but he can still safely work for another month or so if he can mange to stay seated during his shifts,” he smirks down at Dean knowingly.

 

“I can,” Dean hastens to add. “Scout’s honor.”

 

Anna looks between the two of them sternly for a moment before she deflates some.

 

“Fine, but only another month, Dean, and not starting for another week at least,” she says. “I want that ankle elevated. Above the heart if you can, and ice should help with the worst of the inflammation.”

 

“Okay, yeah,” Dean agrees. “I got it.”

 

“And one thing before you leave, Dean. It might be the most important,” she says softly, coming over to lean against the table. “No more stress. None. It might actually be worse for the baby than the actual fall. The rest of your pregnancy, you need to try your best to have a stress free environment. Cas filled me in a little bit on what’s been going on, and I have to warn you what further separation from your Alpha could do to you and the baby. It’s not good, Dean. Your body will already need time to recuperate from that on top of working hard to heal your ankle.”

 

“You,” she says, pointing at Cas. “Need to stay with him as much as you possibly can for the next few days- hell- the next few _months._ And you,” she points at Dean. “Be prepared for a little bit of a hormone fluctuation. I know Cas warned you about it a little bit, but I don’t want you to freak out about it later. It’s normal. It’s temporary. You just need time with your Alpha in order to stabilize your hormones again.”

 

“I want to see you again in a month, Dean, and when I do I want nothing but a sparkling report. A clean sheet, okay?” Anna asks, reaching over to pats Dean’s hand.

 

“Yeah,” Dean agrees at the same time as Cas says, “Of course.”

 

“Alright, get out of here. Pam is expecting you both,” she smiles and walks over to get the door for them.

 

Dean is transported to the wheelchair- to the other side of the building- and then deposited into another bed. By then, he’s so tired that he nuzzles his face into Cas’s neck and closes his eyes while Pam gets him set up.

 

“It’s all going to be okay, Dean,” Cas whispers to him.

 

“I know,” Dean breathes back. “I’m…I’m so happy you’re here.”

 

Cas moves so he can press their foreheads together, and they both smile and close their eyes when their baby’s heartbeat fills the room.

 

“There we go, guys,” Pam says quietly. “Still nice and healthy.”

 

Dean sighs out a huge breath of relief, and finally lets himself relax. The room is silent except for the pup’s heartbeat and a few words spoken here and there from Pam. Cas doesn’t move, and neither does Dean. It’s been about half an hour when he’s just about to start drifting off.

 

“Well would you look at that,” Pam shatters the silence and recaptures both their attentions. “Seems someone felt like cooperating today. Congratulations gentlemen, it’s a girl.”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone had a merry christmas and a happy new year!


	41. Chapter 41

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think what keeps fucking me up time wise is that in my head I'm trying to cram too much into one chapter, and it intimidates me to keep putting it off and putting it off. This chapter was supposed to be longer, but I'd figured y'all had waited long enough. See end of chapter notes though!

 

 

 

 

If they didn’t have their heads pressed together, they would’ve probably knocked them into each other some how. As it was, Dean is almost positive he’s got whip- lash from how quickly he turns to stare at Pam.

 

“What was that?”

 

_“What?!”_

Pamela jumps a little bit from the intensity of both their voices, but quickly looks between them before shooting them a knowing look and smirking down at the little screen.

 

“Yep, you heard it right. It’s official, fellas,” she says like both of them aren’t hanging on her every word. “You have a little lady on the way.”

 

Cas’s look of surprise lasts only enough time for him to properly comprehend the words just spoken. And then the smile lighting up his face is blinding. Some kind of noise- half over joyed, half giddy relief- makes it’s way out of his throat, and he’s fumbling clumsily for Dean’s hand while unable to look away from the image of his daughter on the screen.

 

Dean is frozen. Physically and mentally, everything just stops.

 

He blinks, and just for that second he can clearly imagine himself picking up his little girl who fell asleep on the couch and carrying her to bed. He can see his little girl running to the door to greet him as he returns from a long day at work, excited to see him.

 

The grip on his hand brings him back to the present, and the shock gives way to something far less composed.

 

“Cas, _Cas_ ,” he says, voice breaking. His voice is about three octaves higher than normal as he turns to look over his shoulder at Cas. His fingers are shaking as he squeezes Cas’s hand, but he ignores it. “Did you hear that? It’s a girl, we’re having a girl, Cas.”

 

He knows he’s babbling and he knows there’s no way Cas could’ve missed it, but there’s suddenly so much emotion mixed with words trying to bubble out of him now.

 

Cas’s smile softens as he looks back at him, blue eyes sparkling with unshed tears. He reaches over with his free hand and stroke Dean’s cheek. “I heard.”

 

“Can you believe that?” he gasps, almost hyperventilating. “A girl… she’s a girl.”

“Our girl,” Cas says softly.

 

Cas leans into press a lingering kiss to Dean’s forehead, and Dean takes that moment to close his eyes and take a deep breath.

 

Goddamn he did not see that coming. He was so sure, his mind was so set on having a boy. Now that he knows differently, he feels like he needs to reassess everything, rethink everything. In the beginning he’d been afraid of the idea of having a girl because he’d only grown up and been around boys. The idea of having a girl was so crazy to him, pretty much out of his league and out of his comfort zone in the way of his very narrow life experiences. A baby girl was a completely new concept. He had no clue what he would do if he had a girl.

 

Now though, he’s surprised that he feels no disappointment at all at this revelation. He’s still scared shitless of course, but he also feels an overwhelming amount of not only happiness, but excitement.

 

Him and Cas are having a baby girl.

 

When Cas leans back, Dean whips back around to stare at the screen. Pam had continued to make small, gentle circles over the pup

 

“Holy _shit,_ she is beautiful,” he whispers, completely in awe. He can see her little head and her little body curled up nice and cozy inside him, and it’s the most incredible thing he’s ever seen.

 

“She is,” Cas agrees immediately.

 

He quickly glances back at him and is unsurprised by the couple of tears running down his face. They aren’t sad. Cas looks like the world was just handed to him on a silver platter and he’s unsure of what he did to deserve such luck. Dean can relate.

 

Pam has been quiet this whole time, probably trying to give them a moment in the limited space presented. At Cas’s words, she smiles at both of them and pats Dean’s leg.

 

“She’s a looker alright, just like her fathers,” she says with a wink. “I’m sure you’ll have your hands full keeping suitors away.”

 

Cas laughs, but Dean blinks at her, affronted. He hadn’t thought of that. Oh god, he’s going to be one of those unbearably over protective fathers, he can feel it already even though the two of them are still very much inseparable.

 

When Cas feels him tense, he laughs harder and touches his nose to Dean’s cheek.

 

“Relax, Dean,” he chuckles. “We have time before we need to be worried about that. I’d suggest waiting at least until after she’s born.”

 

Dean glares at Pamela and can’t help but reach down to rub the side of his belly.

 

“Don’t go getting ideas, baby girl. Me and your daddy are gonna be the only men in your life until you’re 35,” he murmurs, then reconsiders. “Actually, make it 40.”

 

Pamela scoffs good naturedly and Cas rolls his eyes. He’s joking of course, but in that moment, looking down at his pup, he suddenly sobers. Before he knows it, she’s going to be out and about in the world, expecting him to take care of her. She’s going to look up to him. In here-like this- he can protect her. Soon, that won’t always be the case.

 

“Never going to let anyone hurt you, pup,” he promises quietly.

 

He’s so far gone on his baby already. Loves her so goddamn much before he knew the sex, and only loves her more now. She’s going to have a fucking fantastic life filled with love and adventure and good things if it’s the last thing he does. She’s going to have everything he hadn’t. Including two parents who love her unconditionally.

 

Like he could hear Dean’s thoughts, Cas brings their entwined fingers up to his mouth to brush a soft kiss against Dean’s knuckles.

 

“Never,” Cas murmurs against his skin.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Pam ends up shooing them along after another half an hour of them fawning over the pup. She insists that she has other patients coming in soon, and hurriedly hands them over a brand spanking new image of their little girl when both Cas and Dean drag their feet while leaving.

 

It makes riding in the stupid wheelchair a lot easier. He doesn’t have to worry about running into things or people, he can stare at his girl the entire way to the car, feeling the occasional hand on his shoulder or running through his hair as Cas watches him in between stealing glances at the picture.

 

They’re going to be okay.

 

After Cas carefully helps him into the car, being mindful of the pup and his ankle, he reaches over to hold Cas’s hand again. “Let’s go home,” he says, meeting Cas’s eyes.

 

A look of abject relief transforms Cas, and he suddenly looks ten years younger as he smiles back at Dean.

 

“Of course,” he says simply, bringing their entwined fingers up to his lips briefly and then starts the car. “I’ve longed to hear you that.”

 

He’s pretty sure he’s considered Cas’s house his home for a long time now. So long that he can’t recall the first moment that it happened. Just like he couldn’t recall the first time he had realized his feelings for Cas transcended that of friendship. Both had been way easier then he thought, just as easy as breathing. Home had begun to take the shape of Cas, and then home became the place where they were together and where they’d start a family.

 

It makes him think of all the big moments they’ve had there. The first time he’d stayed the night, the first time they’d tried anything sexual after their initial hookup, Thanksgiving with Sam and Jess, picking out the nursery, hundreds of kisses on the couch, decorating the Christmas tree… All those little moments of peace and happiness interspersed with the bad, the really dark ones that ended with him in the bath tub.

 

Now more than ever he’s determined to make as many good memories for him, Cas and this baby as possible. This second chance is a fucking miracle, and he’s not going to squander it this time.

 

He has to bite his lip and blink back tears as they slowly pull into a familiar driveway. Even though he feels as though he couldn’t be more different than the last time he left this house, the house itself looks exactly the way it always has. There’s something so achingly comforting in that fact- like it and it’s occupant has been waiting for him this entire time with open arms- that he suddenly feels an overwhelming amount of eagerness to be inside with Cas.

 

He opens his door and has his right foot out the door before Cas can stop him.

 

“Woah, woah. Hold on,” Cas says. Killing the engine, he’s out and jogging to Dean’s side in an instant.

 

“Fuck, I already forgot about my ankle,” he sighs. He’d look down at it resentfully now if the pup wasn’t blocking it from sight. “Just want to _go_.”

 

Cas looks down at him, regarding him softly before squatting to hug him close.

 

“Come on then,” Cas whispers in his ear. “Let’s get you inside.”

 

Dean nuzzles into his throat and wraps his arms around Cas’s neck and lets him pull him up and out of the car. The wind blows all around them, trees swinging at it’s force, but Dean feels warm for the first time in too long as Cas helps him limp steadily up the drive towards their home.

 

He’s _home._

 

As soon as he’s close enough he’s lurching for the door knob- wrenching it open- when he feels Cas tense and say, “Dean, wait-”

 

Immediately he’s hit with the scent of something so strong it almost knocks him back on his ass(again).

 

It’s Cas, but it’s muddled in desperation, longing, and _sex._ He can feel slick automatically starting to trickle between his cheeks, reacting instinctively to what his body recognizes this scent means.

 

It’s so good, but it’s _wrong._ It’s another slight on his part, another thing he has to make up to Cas.

Another wave of guilt and despair crashes over him like a tidal wave. He looks around wildly before turning to Cas with heartbreak written all over his face.

 

“Cas,” he says hoarsely. “You were in rut?”

 

“I’m sorry, Dean. I forgot to tell you,” Cas murmurs. It makes no sense at all that Cas looks guilty. “The cycle ended four days ago, although I haven’t been able to get the scent out.”

 

“Cas…Cas, I’m so sorry,” Dean whispers. “God- I should’ve been here for you-”

 

“It’s not important, Dean,” Cas tugs him in so that Dean has to wrap both arms around his neck in order to stand face to face. “I was fine. It isn’t your job to provide sex when you think I need it.”

 

When Cas sees that Dean is about to argue, Cas stops him with a soft hand on his cheek.

 

“Whatever you’re thinking, knock it off alright?” Cas says. “It’s okay, Dean. I’ve been taking care of myself for _years,”_ he tries to joke, nuzzling his nose against Dean’s. “I do apologize for the scent though…”

 

“I apologize for mine,” Dean mumbles back quietly.

 

Cas wrinkles his nose.

 

“It will fade with time and better scents, beautiful,” Cas reassures him, then hesitates. “Your apartment on the other hand…will need to be thoroughly cleaned and aired out.”

 

A thought crosses his mind that has him tucking himself against Cas’s chest so that he can hide his face in Cas’s neck. It’s big. And after everything, he’s confident in the answer he will get, but unable to completely shake off the insecurity in the back of his head.

 

“Maybe-” he croaks. “Maybe not. I was thinking, and I thought…” Dean takes a deep breath. “Does that offer to move in with you still stand?”

 

He can actually feel Cas stop breathing for a second.

 

And then he’s squeezing Dean tight and kissing the top of his head, the smell of happy Alpha lighting up his senses and making him smile despite himself.

 

“Yes,” Cas breathes. “Of course it does. Welcome home, Dean.”

 

Tears leak out of the corners of his eyes and Cas only sees them because he pulls away to cradle Dean’s face between both hands and kiss them away.

 

“It’s been home for longer than I can remember,” Dean admits quietly.

 

“Good. Now it’s official,” Cas smiles. “We can start making it a home for our child together.”

 

Oh god, the nursery. He’d completely ignored the Christmas decorations that remained untouched when he walked in, the scent of rut taking precedence in the moment. But Cas had left the tree up, his presents neatly stacked on the coffee table, a reminder of the best holiday ever ruined by his stupid ass decisions. Christmas felt like years ago, not weeks. He’s wasted so much time.

 

He closes his eyes and leans his forehead against Cas’s. Distress is starting to leak through his pores again, causing Cas to tense in his arms. He’s backtracking fast and hard, letting the guilt get to him all over again when re remembers his thoughts in the car.

 

Good memories. No more wasting time, no more dwelling on sadness or mistakes.

 

He suddenly knows exactly where to start.

 

“C’mon, Cas,” he murmurs, matching his breaths to Cas’s. “I need your help with something.”

 

“Anything,” Cas breathes back, clutching him closer.

 

Slowly, he untangles himself from Cas’s embrace. He lets Cas wrap one arm around his back for support and then takes his other hand so he can lead the way. With Dean’s limp, it’s slow progress, walking past all the rooms and all of the things still left out from Christmas. He wants to stop and look around, refamiliarize himself with everything he’s missed, but he’s confident that there will be time for that another day. He’s also confident in the knowledge that this is the right choice.

 

When they turn into Cas’s bedroom and then immediately turn for the bathroom, he can see Cas’s eyebrows rise in confusion.

 

“Dean, what are we-”

 

“Shhhhh. You’ll see,” he assures. It won’t take too long to figure it out.

 

Actually, it only takes as long as it takes to limp the few steps to the bathtub.

 

Cas is stiff against him, holding him back from taking the final step. When Dean looks up at him, his face is a mask of hesitation and concern. When he opens his mouth to protest though, Dean covers his lips with a single finger.

 

“Just… just trust me on this,” Dean murmurs quietly. He can change this.

 

Cas just stares at him. Dean can see the question in his gaze, and the struggle to figure out Dean’s motives. Clearly this is an issue for the two of them, so Dean waits patiently until Cas’s face slackens reluctantly and his hold lessens enough for him to pull away. He doesn’t let go of Cas completely, just enough for him to slowly bend over and carefully turn the knobs to start the water.

 

When he turns back to Cas, he still looks confused, but no longer afraid. A little confusion slips away when Dean gently pushes the hem of Cas’s sweater up, a clear indication to take it off. A clear indication that he doesn’t plan on getting in alone.

 

Before he shimmies it more than half way up his torso, Cas’s hands are on either side of his face, halting his movements and pulling him in for a long, searing kiss.

 

It’s not the kind of kiss they shared yesterday. That was a promise sealed with lips, a brief “I’m so glad you’re back, don’t ever do that again” kind of deal. This is different.

 

Cas guides his head with gentle fingers, angling him to the side in order to slant in and deepen it. Lips open, eyes close, and tongues brush as Cas presses in close and keeps getting closer.

 

A whimper that makes his cheeks turn pink sounds from his throat when Cas nips at his bottom lip and his fingers are suddenly buried in Cas’s hair, grip tight and unyielding. Cas has him burning up from the inside, hot everywhere until he feels like his entire body is an open flame. He missed this more than he could possibly explain. This more than anything feels like coming home.

 

This is their first real kiss since their separation, and the desperation from the last two weeks is clearly dominating this kiss; making it difficult to pull away. Eventually Dean has to in order to pull in a ragged breath but then Cas’s lips are on his throat, pressing slow kiss after kiss to random spots, raising goose bumps on his flesh.

 

Dean tilts his head back, breathing hard, a soft moan leaving his lips when Cas sucks what will undoubtedly be an impressive hickey. He lets him, revels in it even; the idea of Cas marking leaving a mark on him. It’s weirdly erotic, and as soon as Cas lessens the pressure to softer brush of lips on the mark, Dean is scrabbling for purchase on any part of Cas that he can use in order to reattach their lips.

 

Cas’s lips are so hot, taste so good against his; he has no idea how he went so long without them.

 

“Fuck, Cas,” he gasps, breathing hard and unsurprised to feel tears in his eyes again. “I missed you so much. I was so stupid.”

 

Cas has his eyes closed, but open them again so he can lean forward and kiss Dean’s nose, then his forehead, and then his lips again. Dean’s just about to deepen it again when the sound of water running reminds him that he has a purpose.

 

He takes a steadying breath and let’s the heat course out of him. There is a right way to do this, and Dean wants that for Cas. He can do this.

 

“Want to take a bath with me?” he whispers, heartbeat still racing.

 

Cas kisses his throat again. “Yes.”

 

He raises his arms and lets Dean pull first his sweater and then his long sleeve off of him. That’s the extent of the clothing Dean is allowed to remove though, because Cas insists on doing the rest. He drops his pants and briefs quickly, then steps in close to Dean to tenderly peal each layer away, kissing each new piece of revealed skin as he goes.

 

When he’s completely naked, he shivers and clings to Cas’s body heat. He missed every inch of Cas. He wants to look him over, drink in every detail, but the need to be close to him outweighs that need.

 

Cas rubs circles against his back and then quickly balances them so he’s able to test the water and turn the knobs while still supporting Dean. There was steam rising from the water before, but Cas adjusts it to make it cooler, moving them both towards the tub when it’s ready.

 

“Go slowly, Dean,” Cas warns him, helping him step over the lip of the tub. “It’s extremely slippery and we don’t want you falling again.”

 

He supports Dean’s weight the entire time, holding both of his arms and squatting to lower Dean carefully into the warm water. Once he’s settled, Cas swings his legs one at a time over the tub and into the water. Dean leans forward so Cas can sit behind him, and then back when Cas has either leg on the side of him and wraps his arms around his chest to pull him back.

 

The water isn’t hot, but its warm enough that Dean sinks back into Cas, sighing deeply and tucking his nose to Cas’s chest.

 

They sit there together in silence for some minutes just holding each other. Just breathing in each other’s scent and feeling how each individual breath makes their bodies move.

 

Dean’s never done this before. Never been this close with another human being. And he’s never, _ever_ thought to let someone into the place he goes where he’s the most vulnerable, at his lowest of lows. He hadn’t realized it until Cas brought it up, but this had always been his escape. The place to go when he has nowhere and no one, a place he is safe. Letting Cas in is pretty much demolishing the last wall between them.

 

One tear, then another slide down his cheeks and he closes his eyes in an attempt to stem the flow. After everything and now this, he just feels so _raw._

 

Cas must feel his back shake because he readjusts Dean so that he’s sitting on his lap instead of between his legs, and there’s no place that they aren’t connected. Back to chest, bottom to top, Cas swallows him whole.

 

Dean curls into him, feeling small again, but this time he likes it. He feels like he and the pup are being protected from the world. _Cas_ is making him feel safe and protected. Not the tub. It’s Cas that wraps his arms around him, he’s not forced to do it himself the way he’s learned to do when he’s alone and finds himself in the tub.

 

He’d always been trying to hold himself together or keeping himself from shattering into a million pieces.

 

Now he doesn’t need to. He’s not alone anymore.

 

Cas is trying to soothe him, peppering kisses to the top of his head, and lightly massaging circles into his belly. Without his notice, Cas must’ve grabbed the soap, because he slowly begins to lather his arms and shoulders with lavender scented soap. He’s very thorough, slowly cleaning every part of Dean until there’s nothing left and he’s back to stroking the pup.

 

“It’s okay, Dean. Breathe, baby,” Cas whispers.

 

A wave of something so powerful and heavy hits him right then, and he has to turn his face into Cas’s neck as it racks his body. It makes his chest warm and his breath quicken. He recognizes the feeling of course, but he’s never let himself dwell on it, let alone begin to articulate what he’s feeling.

 

“You are so beautiful, Dean,” Cas murmurs in his ear. “You grow more and more breathtaking every day.”

 

The words are accompanied by firmer strokes to the bottom of his belly. “I can’t wait for you to meet your father, little one. He’s so strong and good,” he trails off, continuing to run his hands all over the pup under the water. It’s intimate and so fucking gentle. “I hope you’ll be just like him. The two of you light up my world…I’m certain you know this by now, but I don’t think there’s any harm in repeating it as often as possible. Your father and I love you very much, sweetheart.”

 

“Cas I…” he whispers, almost too choked up to continue.

 

But Cas has waited long enough.

 

He mouths against Cas’s neck and breathes the words against his skin. “Cas…I love you.”

 

Cas pulls in a ragged breath, making his chest hitch beneath Dean in a palpable way.

 

“Shoulda said so before, but I was scared,” he rasps. “M’not anymore. I love you, I love you, I love you-“

 

Cas is kissing him then. A desperately happy kiss that starts out deep right from the beginning. Cas’s lips open his again and again, and choppy, sharp breaths are exchanged between them.

 

“You know I love you too,” Cas gasps between kisses. “So much, _Dean-_ “

 

Cas helps Dean turn around so that he’s straddling Cas, and they’re face to face, making it easier to kiss and touch like they so desperately want. His arms are around Cas’s neck, and Cas is holding him so _tightly._

And it’s everything he’s ever wanted.

 

Getting to feel Cas like this again, knowing he gets to keep this…

 

He pulls away and closes his eyes before leaning in to whisper in Cas’s ear.

 

“Alpha.”

 

Cas’s whole body shutters as he turns to meet Dean’s eyes, a clear question that Dean finally has an answer to. There is complete silence except for the quiet sound of them shifting in the water and their still heavy breathing.

 

“I’m already yours, Cas,” Dean smiles, touching his nose to Cas’s. “Might as well make it official. I mean… if you still want that.”

 

Cas’s eyes narrow, and he gives Dean a look that clearly says _Dear god, you can’t be serious._ Dean laughs loudly and kisses that stupid look right off of his face.

 

“Sassy. I like that,” he murmurs against Cas’s lips. “So you wanna be my mate?”

 

“I think you made me wait long enough, Mr. Winchester,” Cas says, nuzzling into Dean’s neck pointedly. “Feel free to try and prove me wrong, but I’m almost positive that nothing could make me happier than having you as my mate.”

 

“You big sap,” Dean whispers, stretching his head back to give Cas complete access, fingers running gently through water logged hair.

 

Tiny pin pricks of pressure press gently into the space of skin right above where his neck meets his shoulder, and Dean feels a surprisingly amount of heat between his legs at the touch. He hadn’t noticed before, but somehow both he and Cas are both rock hard and pressed together beneath the water. He can’t see any of this of course, but damn, could he feel it.

 

“Do it, little Alpha. I want you to,” he says softly.

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“I’m sure of you," he says confidently. There's no question on that one. 

 

He's ready.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Longer chapters and longer wait for update? Or shorter chapters and a shorter wait for updates? Comments/opinions appreciated!!!


	42. Chapter 42

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For you people. You know who you are. Probably.

 

 

Cas turns Dean’s face back around to seal their lips together once more, a new energy between them that has him scooting forward to crush himself against Cas.

 

He can’t decide what he wants first in this moment as Cas’s grip slips down to his legs, hitching them up and around himself. On one hand, he want’s Cas’s bite like he wants his next breath. On the other hand, his lower half is pretty much aching for Cas to be inside him already. It’s been too long, and the need only gets stronger as the seconds tick by.

 

“Cas-“ he breaks off gasping, hissing when Cas immediately latches on to his neck in the absence of his lips. “Now. Please, now.”

 

Cas licks and sucks at his throat, but there’s only the tease of those sharp teeth.

 

“Shhhhh….” Cas whispers. “Don’t worry, beautiful. I’ll take care of you.”

 

Dean whines low in his throat and shifts his hips around impatiently until he can feel the hard outline of Cas where he needs him most. He reaches back and takes Cas firmly in his hand, stroking him a few times before lowering himself down until just the head is against his entrance.

 

He looks up at Cas dazedly, waiting for direction.

 

The look Cas aims at him makes him squirm in desperation and clench against the tip of Cas’s cock. It’s pure want. Pure love. Pure everything Dean’s ever wanted.

 

The sound he makes this time sounds infinitely more pained as he tucks himself against Cas’s throat and scents him, panting. Cas got his engines revved up and ready to go so fucking fast, turned him into a whole ‘nother creature way quicker than he’s proud of.

 

“You want it, don’t you, my little Omega?” Cas croons, rubbing soothing circles into Dean’s back and scalp, the repetitive motion doing nothing whatsoever to calm him down. “You want my mark?”

 

He sucks in a breath. Cas has never called him that before. He hears the words and expects some kind of negative emotion to follow, but all he feels is warmth in his chest, and more heat heading down south. Only Cas gets this. Dean can call him little Alpha, and Cas can call him whatever the fuck he wants, because they belong to each other, he’s Cas’s, bottom line.

 

“Yeah,” he pants, ignoring the blush he can feel in his cheeks. “Want you. C’mon Cas, wanna be yours.”

 

“You already are,” Cas reminds him in a whisper, stroking Dean’s cheek. “And I am yours.”

 

Dean closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. When he opens them again and sees the raw emotion on Cas’s face he knows is a mirror of his own, he thrusts his hips against Cas more insistently.

 

Cas’s hands fly to Dean’s hips, stilling his movements.

 

“Then how ‘bout we make it official, hmm?” Dean hums, smiling a little at the way Cas’s whole face lights up. Cas had been waiting for him for way too damn long now, so it’s kind of funny that Dean’s the one pushing for this now.

 

Ever so slowly, Cas’s grip slackens and Cas sits up, readjusting Dean over his lap slightly. Just the small movement has Cas sliding in just a little deeper, and Dean has to bite his lip hard in order to fight the urge to just _take._

 

“Do you need…?” Cas trails off questioningly as he ghosts his fingers over Dean’s cheeks. He doesn’t need to finish that sentence.

 

“ _Hell_ no,” Dean chuckles, shaking his head. “Let’s just say that if we weren’t in water, I wouldn’t need help getting more wet.”

 

“Good,” Cas says quietly. “Lean back for a second.”

 

Dean does as he’s told, leaning back until he’s resting against Cas’s raised knees. Cas immediately swoops down to kiss one nipple and then the other, sucking on them until they’ve pebbled and Dean is moaning and clutching Cas’s head to his chest with a claw like grip, legs automatically spreading further.

 

When he feels that Dean has had enough, nipples kiss swollen and pink, he gentles his kisses and moves to mouth down his body, stopping at the pup. He presses kiss after kiss against their baby girl, massaging the skin around Dean’s hips and sides, giving Dean a few minutes to catch his breath as Cas moves slowly through the water.

 

“I apologize…. I got a bit distracted,” Cas smirks before sobering. He props his chin on the peak of Dean’s belly, staring up at him with those stupid blue eyes. “I love you, Dean. I’m so….I’m so lucky to be starting my life with you and our pup. This is- this is a brand new chapter of our book, Dean.”

 

“Cas,” he whispers, throat tight with emotion. He pushes back Cas’s wet hair from his forehead, so enraptured by the man in front of him, so overwhelmed. “Love you.”

 

The words seem inadequate in this moment. Don’t encompass everything he’s feeling for this man, and probably never will. But they’re enough for now. They’re enough to have Cas sit up again and cradle him close like the most precious thing in the world. They’re enough to feel contentment and happiness blossom in his chest. They are enough to make his head spin.

 

Cas smooths his fingers over Dean’s ass, parting his cheeks and ghosting his fingers over where Dean is sensitive and waiting. Carefully, Cas helps Dean reposition himself over Cas again and slowly-finally- sink down. Dean wants to close his eyes and just _feel_ , but he resists in order to watch Cas’s face, slack with pleasure, eyes fluttering, but gaze unwavering on Dean.

 

He doesn’t hear his own sigh of relief as Cas bottoms out, doesn’t even notice how every part of him relaxes into Cas either, plastered to Cas like a second skin. There’s just Cas’s heartbeat under his ear and a sense of emptiness finally being made full again.

 

He missed this so goddamn much.

 

They don’t move for a while. Too long really after such a build up, but Cas is patient, letting Dean cling to him. His fingers are digging into Cas’s back. His legs wrapped around Cas’s hips, and his face tucked against Cas’s chest as Cas rubs his back. His breathing is hitched and he knows Cas can feel it but doesn’t say anything until his breathing is back in control.

 

“Come here, baby,” Cas murmurs against his head, so fucking gentle; such a contrast to last couple of minutes. “You can go first.”

The water shifts around them quiet and intimate, dripping off their skin, lapping gently against the side of the tub.

 

“’Kay,” he mumbles against Cas’s skin, feeling small as the weight of what they’re about to do hits him. He places a kiss against Cas’s chest before nuzzling his way up into Cas’s throat.

 

Cas tilts his head to the side for him, petting his hair all the while, and letting Dean take his time scenting.

 

He noses against Cas’s jaw, the soft skin right below his ear, the junction where his neck meets he shoulder, until he stops at the base of his throat- on Cas’s left side.

 

“S’here okay?” he murmurs against Cas’s skin, words almost too muffled to make out.

 

“Anywhere you want, Dean,” Cas says.

 

When Dean hesitates, Cas squeezes him even closer, the space between them nonexistent.

 

“It’s alright. The pain is nothing compared to what I’m getting in return,” he insists, reading Dean like the open book he is.

 

He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes when Cas strokes the back of his neck, and quickly- probably too quickly too be completely safe- sinks his teeth in to the spot he picked; breaking the skin and causing a little bit of blood to rush to the surface. At the same time he does this, he circles his hips, so Cas’s groan is a mixture of both pleasure and pain.

 

Dean whines quietly at the sound, quickly lapping up the blood and pressing his nose against Cas’s new mating mark when the blood stops.

 

Oh god.

 

This is real. This is _permanent._

Shit, those are _not_ tears in his eyes.

 

Cas must know that he’s losing it, needs something- _anything-_ because he whispers Dean’s name and nudges his neck with his lips; a silent request- a silent _demand_ to bare himself for his Alpha.

 

He nods quickly and doesn’t even think about it before giving Cas complete access to his neck, making himself vulnerable and holding on to Cas for dear life, gasping when Cas immediately fastens his mouth to his neck and bites him gently, barely hard enough to break the skin.

 

The brief burst of pain is nothing. It barely even registers.

 

Cas is kissing his mark over and over, whispering, “My mate, my mate. _Dean-”_

 

“Cas, _Alpha_ ,” Dean gasps like he just sprinted a couple of miles. He’s winded and overwhelmed, and thank _god_ Cas is already inside of him.

 

Cas can’t seem to tear himself away from Dean’s neck, smiling and adorning every inch of his skin in kisses, but that doesn’t stop Dean from desperately swiveling his hips, trying to get Cas deeper, wanting to _feel_ him down to his core.

 

Dean wiggles until Cas is pressed against that spot, and then he clenches, jaw dropping in wordless pleasure- and _that_ seems to get Cas’s attention.

 

His eyes find Dean’s face as he thrusts up almost experimentally, smiling when Dean moans loudly and starts to grind desperately down into Cas’s thrust, water stirred up and now and sloshing around with their movements.

 

“You’re so beautiful, Dean,” Cas murmurs in awe, stroking Dean’s cheeks, his jaw, his new mating mark. It stands out stark against Dean’s pale skin, and Cas finds that he’ll probably never get over the thrill of seeing it there. “My beautiful mate.”

 

Dean is too desperate to start an actual rhythm so he’s at least glad that Cas doesn’t stop his upward movements, letting Dean bounce on his cock in uncoordinated little movements, never really letting Cas retreat more than an inch or two.

 

Dean is already lost to this, the feel of Cas inside him, the tiny ache in his neck- a constant reminder of what they just did, and is already edging towards the finish line before it ever really begins. Cas just feels so _good_ \- and he’s not even really getting it the way he’s used to. It’s a little embarrassing to think about, but Dean is really getting off just by Cas being inside him. The little bouncing movement he’s doing is a tease, playing with himself- fucking himself with Cas’s thick girth with no thoughts on how the rest will pan out.

 

“Yes, baby. Keep going,” Cas purrs, reaching up to roll Dean’s nipples with his wet fingers, urging Dean on.

 

Dean cries out at the sensation, starting to bounce faster, but it’s still not enough. For the first time since they’ve started this, Dean regrets having to be on top. He wants Cas to pin him down and take control. He needs Cas to dominate him.

 

“Alpha,” Dean gasps, ducking his head in a show of submission, tilting his neck to the left, giving Cas his neck again.

 

Cas, thankfully, is picking up what he’s putting down. He growls deep in his throat and runs his fingers down Dean’s body until he can grip dean’s hips.

 

“Stay still,” he murmurs, the command in his voice sending goose bumps down his spine.

 

Dean goes pliant as Cas’s hold tightens, but staying still isn’t really an option after the first hard thrust. Cas lifts him almost completely off until only the tip of his dick is still inside before pulling Dean down hard.

 

Dean’s arms shoot out to brace himself on Cas’s shoulders, smiling around another moan as Cas does it again and again. Cas is staring into his eyes, a single minded ferocity lighting him up from the inside out.

 

“Just like that, little Alpha. So good,” he praises, smiling when Cas’s rhythm picks up.

 

Cas is using the motion of the water to help lift and settle Dean the way he wants him, and it’s hard to ignore the way that it makes the water splash over the side of the tub. He barks out a startled laugh as a particularly hard thrust sends an even bigger wave of water onto the floor. He’s about to say something about it when the next slam of Cas’s hips to his ass sufficiently distracts him.

 

And sure he’s had shower sex before. He’d even had sex in a couple hot tubs back in the day. But bath tub sex? It’s a new one for him.

 

The way the water feels against his hole every time Cas moves in and out is making him lose his goddamn mind, and the way he and Cas keep sliding against each other, slipping against the slippery sides and bottom of the tub every time they try to find purchase just adds another layer of delicious frustration to the entire endeavor.

 

And damn, are they making a mess…

 

Dean leans forward to hug Cas to him as much as he’s able to, laughing quietly in his ear, completely unable to wipe the stupid smile off his face. This is it. This is the rest of their lives together. Laughter and love, and a whole shit ton of messes they’ll have to clean up later.

 

Cas mouths wetly at Dean’s mark again as he pets Cas’s hair. “What’s funny, Dean?” he says, barely concealed amusement in his voice.

 

“Just- ah!” he gasps when Cas thrusts up again unexpectedly. “You fucker- you did that on purpose!” he laughs, bumping his nose to Cas’s forehead. “I’m laughing ‘cuz I’m happy….and there’s no way I’ll be able to help you clean up all that water.”

 

Cas rolls his eyes at him but chuckles as well. “You’re right. The last thing we need is another fall.”

 

“I hope you know I’m not naturally this clumsy,” Dean pouts, slowing the motion of their hips a little so he doesn’t have to pant around each word. “It’s little miss’s fault. I’m usually graceful as hell and a lot more slick.”

 

He immediately closes his eyes at his choice of words, already knowing Cas is going to zero in on them.

 

“More _slick_ , Dean?” he punctuates with a thrust that steals all the breath from his lungs. “You are telling me that in a few months, you’ll be even more wet for me, beautiful?” he growls, abandoning whatever sweet moment they were having in favor of gripping Dean tight again and really giving it to him.

 

“Oh- _oh_ \- kay,” he gasps. “Not what I meant, but I’m alright with this development.”

 

Cas laughs again and leans forward to kiss Dean until his head is spinning and he can no longer keep down the whines threatening to spill out his throat. His noises echo loudly in the bathroom, filling up the space and spurring Cas on.

 

His eyes slam shut and he sees fucking stars. The next hard nudge to his prostate has him whispering what he wants, half hoping Cas can’t hear him begging.

 

No dice.

 

“What was that?” Cas says immediately.

 

When Dean doesn’t even try to answer, Cas shifts him around and slams in harder.

 

Dean’s shout is fucking loud and startling even to himself. Cas, of course, just looks all the more pleased with himself.

 

“Dean…” and there’s just a hint of threat in his voice that fucking _does_ it for Dean and has him opening his mouth again.

 

“Knot,” he mumbles, too turned on to be embarrassed about how needy he is. “Want it.”

 

For a second, Cas looks like he’s about to eat him alive before his face changes and the blatant heat on his face cools a bit.

 

And- okay, what the _fuck?_ Cas is lifting him and sliding himself completely out, letting the water rush to where he’s suddenly empty- causing him to flinch away with an unhappy hiss.

 

“Cas,” he all but whimpers. “What are you-“

 

“Shhhh, shh, I’m sorry,” Cas soothes, cradling Dean to him as he continues to shift beneath him. “I should’ve warned you. It’s time to get out of the water. If I knot you here, we’ll both regret it,” he explains.

 

He’s was pretty much at the point where his argument would be “fuck that -get on with it.” But without Cas inside him he’s able to think a little more clearly and take in a couple things. One; there’s a lot more water on the floor than in the tub. Two- the remaining water inside the tub has now turned cold and unpleasant. Three; if they were to stay there and Cas had knotted him, they’d be stuck there unable to get out, and freezing on top of that.

 

He shivers at the thought.

 

“You see what I mean,” Cas says quietly, leaning in to kiss Dean’s cheek sweetly. “Let’s get you out…so I can get back in.”

 

Dean snorts loudly, throwing his head back in laughter and then shaking his head. “You did not just say that.”

 

“I think I did.”

 

“Wow. You are the opposite of smooth, dude,” Dean chuckles, loving how carefree and happy Cas is now after everything. The thought makes something flutter low in his stomach. “C’mon.”

 

Reaching on either side of him to the sides of the tub, he holds as much of his weight as possible so that Cas can slip out from underneath him and get his feet under him. When he stands and finally gets a good look at the damage, he shakes his head in amused dismay.

 

“Who knew mating would be this messy, am I right?” Dean cracks, winking when Cas levels a glare at him.

 

Cas’s lip quirks up. “Not the kind of mess I had anticipated, I’m afraid. You’ll have to sit tight another few minutes while I clean up a bit.”

 

Dean’s immediate protest is cut off before it can begin.

 

“-Dean. I know time is of the essence, but it’s too dangerous for you to be walking on a wet surface. And even more dangerous if I was to carry you,” Cas explains, calm as ever as though they weren’t having very enthusiastic sex not two minutes ago.

 

They’re both still _hard_ , for christ’s sake. And Cas’s dick is basically right in front of his face.

 

“For fuck’s sake, Cas,” he blurts, looking away from between Cas’s legs in order to keep his sanity. “Get going then.”

 

Cas smirks at him knowingly but still bends down and coaxes Dean’s chin up with a single finger to kiss him softly before stepping out of the tub.

 

He makes quick work of gathering as many towels as he can, only slipping twice in the process to the resounding sounds of Dean’s laugh. But to his surprise, instead of trying to mop up all the water, Cas makes a sort of red carpet-esqe kind of deal starting from the side of the tub all the way to the bedroom.

 

Dean raises his eyebrows when Cas comes back to the tub, but Cas isn’t deterred.

 

“I did say that time was of the essence,” he shrugs. “Alright, give me your hands. Ah ah ah- watch the ankle, Dean. I said hands, not try to get to your knees,” he tsks, exasperated.

 

“Then how the hell am I-”

 

Cas silences him by leaning over him to grip his hands from underneath him, bracing Dean’s arms underneath and lifting him slowly.

 

“Careful, careful,” Cas says softly, balancing him at he struggles to find his footing.

 

“Ow.”

 

“I know. You probably forgot all about your ankle, didn’t you?” Cas says in his ear.

 

And yup. The pain is such an unwelcome contrast to all the pleasure he’d been feeling in the last half an hour or so, he’d be happy to forget about it all over again if he could just make it to the bed.

 

Cas must read his mind. “Come on then, let’s get you in bed.”

 

He steps out of the tub, helps Dean do the same, and then reaches over for a dry towel so he can dry them off as much as possible, laughing at the put upon face Dean sports as he runs the towel through Dean’s hair, causing it to stick up in random tuffs.

 

When they’re a little more dry, Cas drops the towel in favor of scooping up Dean; tucking him under his chin and kissing the top of his head.

 

Dean would argue, but the look on Cas’s face…. He can’t find it in him to dampen the joy he sees there.

 

He wraps his arms around Cas’s neck and kisses his mating mark.

 

And notices something.

 

Dean lets out a long moan, pressing his nose against Cas’s skin, rubbing himself against him. “Oh fuck, Cas. _Fuck.”_

“What is it?” Cas asks, alarmed as he takes a step forward.

 

“Shit,” he gulps, breathing Cas in desperately. “Your scent. Oh my god, you smell good, Cas. So good. I can scent you now that we’re out of the tub. _Ahhh-“_ he breaks off on a moan.

 

Cas inhales sharply and takes the strides necessary to get to the bed way quicker than should be possible, leaving Dean blinking up at him from where he’s now lying on the bed.

 

He gets one second to drink Cas in; standing over him in all his naked glory, eyes roving all over Dean, a couple drops of water still clinging to his skin, his cock still hard and flushed for him-

 

A second is all he needs before he’s reaching for the man and Cas is on him.

 

Their mouths clash, all teeth and tongue and _want,_ but it’s distracting. Cas breaks away to press his nose to Dean’s throat, echoing Dean’s moan from before.

 

“You smell like home,” he whispers against Dean’s skin.

 

And oh _fuck,_ he needs this man. Every single part of him. Right now.

 

“Cas, c’mon, c’mon,” he urges, wrapping his legs around Cas’s hips, feeling slick gather now that he’s outside of the water. There are tears leaking out of the corner of his eyes now, but he ignores them.

 

Cas closes his eyes and presses his forehead to Dean’s. When he leans back to look Dean in the eye, he stays there, communicating without words how much he loves him.

 

A wrecked kind of sob gets him moving again.

 

“Shhhh, lay back, baby,” Cas murmurs, fingers gently wiping away the tears on either side of his face.

 

He huffs at himself, exasperated, but lets Cas guide him back, sighing when Cas carefully positions himself over him. Cas has to stay on his knees to get the right angle, and Dean is bent a little more than he’s comfortable with, but it’s all worth it when Cas first nudges his hole and then slowly slots back into place.

 

There’s nothing like this feeling.

 

Cas takes both of his legs and hitches them a little bit higher- massaging them all the while- getting just a little bit deeper.

 

This time there is no teasing. Cas starts up a rhythm immediately, gazing down so lovingly at Dean that the tears don’t stop. Even when Cas finds his prostate and nudges in relentlessly. Even when Cas works hoarse moans from his throat. Even when Cas leans down to pepper kisses all over the pup.

 

He lets them fall. He lets them cleanse him of the last few weeks; of all the pain he’d put himself through, all his mistakes. All of it is washed away.

 

The only time he wipes his eyes is when they get too blurry to see Cas. Because not to see him, not to look at him right now would be a damn shame.

 

His mate is a thing of beauty. Thrusting between his legs, rubbing soothing circles into any part of Dean he can reach, looking at Dean like he hung the damn moon.

 

“Give it to me, little Alpha,” he whispers when Cas looks down to him with desperation clear on his face. “It’s okay.”

 

But Cas shakes his head, determination setting his jaw. He readjusts, holding himself above Dean’s face, sharing his air between them as he quickens the pace of his hips.

 

Dean’s fingers grip Cas’s tense biceps, trying unsuccessfully to ground himself, but quickly gets lost in the pleasure.

 

“God, Dean,” Cas pants. “I love you so much. I love you.”

 

And that’s all folks.

 

Fireworks are dancing behind his eyelids and he’s sure some kind of embarrassing sound is coming out of his throat. He’s on fire, limbs writhing as Cas’s continues to fuck him through it, knot catching and releasing all the while.

 

Cas is groaning softly in his ear, prolonging the high of orgasm and keeping him from even attempting to open his eyes. When Cas’s hips finally still, knot snug inside him, Cas leans down to press damp kisses against each closed eyes.

 

The bed dips and quivers as Cas struggles to keep his weight off of Dean and the pup but Dean can’t gather enough energy to try and help him.

 

“Hmmmf,” is as far as he gets.

 

“Thank you, Dean, that’s very helpful.”

 

He smiles and snuggles the best he can against Cas’s chest. He can _feel_ Cas sigh.

 

But he can’t be all that upset, because he carefully turns Dean onto his side before gathering him against his chest, letting Dean press in close to scent him, stroking his hair and murmuring soft praise against the top of his head.

 

“Sleep, my love. You need your rest.”

 

In the back of his mind Dean knows there a LOT they still need to discuss. Yet that thought holds a very fleeting moment in his mind before passing, warm contentment quickly taking over and easing him into a deep sleep in his mate's arms.

 

_His mate._

 

 

There's no doubt in his mind that he falls asleep with a smile on his face.

 

 


	43. Chapter 43

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick, fluffy update. Don't kill me.

 

It’s cold, it’s cold, it’s so fucking cold.

 

His eyes snap open just as a huge shiver wracks his body, and for just one second he starts to panic and struggle; completely disoriented.

 

When that second is up though, he’s brought out of his sleepy haze by the man holding him.

 

“Hey, hey,” Cas says quietly, putting down something before quickly taking Dean’s face in his hands. “You’re okay. Breathe, Dean. I’ve got you.”

 

They’re in bed together, but they aren’t in the positions they were when they fell asleep, and Dean can tell that too much time has passed for that little snooze to be considered a nap. He’s laying with his head in Cas’s lap, and when he swiftly looks to Cas’s left, he can see the quickly discarded book Cas must’ve been reading.

 

How long was he out?

 

He shivers again and clings to Cas’s waist where he’d been holding him unconsciously.

 

“Cold,” he chatters, afraid to say more in case he bites his tongue or something equally as stupid. It’s not even that cold in their room, it’s his lingering nightmare making him feel this way. Ugh.

 

“Okay, that’s okay. Can you let go for a minute so I can hold you?” Cas asks, stroking his hair back, still calm as ever.

 

Dean shakes his head.

 

“No?” Cas repeats, amusement in his voice now. “Come on, baby.”

 

There is no part of himself that willingly wants to separate from Cas, but he reluctantly complies; scooting back only a tiny bit so Cas can slide down the bed. But as soon as he does, he’s sighing in relief and pressing himself as close to Cas as possible. Warmth settles over him and he presses his nose to Cas’s neck as Cas starts to rub his back.

 

“There we go,” Cas sighs softly. “Breathe.”

 

He listens, syncing his breath to Cas’s, and slowly his muscles relax and he can replay the last few minutes back with a clear head.

 

 

“Sorry,” he rasps into Cas’s skin.

 

“Are you alright? Did you have a nightmare?” Cas asks.

 

“Yeah. Been having a lot of those lately,” Dean admits quietly. Cas holds him tighter.

 

“Do you wish to talk about them?” he runs his fingers gently over Dean’s cheek. “That might make you feel better.”

 

“You make me feel better,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss to Cas’s mating mark, smiling when Cas huffs a little laugh.

 

“I try…” Cas trails off. “I might have better success we talk it out though. It couldn’t possibly hurt to try.”

 

“It’s just,” Dean pauses, trying to find the words. “Hard to explain. And You won’t like it.”

 

“They are your nightmares, Dean. Of course I won’t like it. But bottling things up is simply not going to work anymore. Not now. You are my mate,” Cas says softly, leaning down to kiss Dean’s forehead. “And I want to take care of you.”

 

“Mate,” Dean repeats the word in a whisper, nosing against the spot again.

 

It still feels so surreal. He gets this. He gets _him_. For the rest of his life….

 

“You are mine,” he says softly, finding Dean’s fingers and bringing them up to his lips to kiss. “And I am yours.”

 

“Fuck, I love you,” Dean rasps. He tucks himself as close as he can to Cas, the bubbling happiness and relief almost too much for him to deal with. Forget his stupid nightmares.

 

“As I love you,” Cas says simply. But when Dean doesn’t say anything for a dew more minutes, Cas nuzzles him again with a soft, expectant, “Dean.”

 

He sighs and lets out his breath slowly, readjusting his grip on Cas, needing the strength.

 

“It’s not a big deal,” he starts. “Nothing trying to kill me or anything. Nothing hellish or typical nightmarish. Sometimes it’s just you and me, but before I would,” he hesitates, biting his lip. “I would wake up and you wouldn’t be there anymore. That’s why it was a nightmare.”

 

He can’t believe he’s being this honest, that he’s telling him something this close to the heart. But Cas just keeps running his fingers through his hair, listening and comforting him with his scent, patient.

 

“But mostly it’s just….overwhelming loneliness. No you, no pup,” he closes his eyes, caving in on himself just thinking about it. “Just me in the middle of no where. Cold.”

 

“You’re not alone. Not anymore,” Cas murmurs. “I’m here now, and I’ll hold you as long as you need me to.”

 

Stupid tears well up in his eyes, so he just nods and continues to hide in Cas’s neck.

 

“Thank you for trusting me,” Cas whispers.

 

“Thanks for staying with me,” he mumbles back thickly, aware of how dark it is outside now. “How long was I out?”

 

“Around 8 hours.”

 

“ _What?”_ he all but yells, pulling away to look incredulously at Cas, all previous mushiness forgotten for the moment. “That’s practically all day! Why did you let me sleep so long?”

 

“Dean, your body is recuperating,” he says sternly. “You need your sleep. The last few weeks and the next few days are very taxing on the body. You need time to heal.”

 

“But I slept on you for eight hours?” Dean shakes his head. “Sorry, man.”

 

“I was happy to do it, Dean,” he assures him quietly. “I’ve missed being able to hold you. I don’t think I’ll ever grow tired of it.”

 

“Holy _shit_. Who knew being mates would make you so sappy,” he laughs, playfully pushing away Cas’s face. “Could you tone it down a bit, I’m trying to keep what’s left of my shredded dignity.”

 

Cas responds by leaning down and blowing a raspberry into his neck, causing Dean to laugh even harder. “Okay, Cas. Real mature.”

 

“Mmmm,” Cas hums against Dean’s skin, keeping his mouth there. “You smell good. Happy.”

 

“How could I not be?” Dean asks simply, barely pausing to think about the words. They’re so fucking true. He’s so goddamn lucky, and he knows it.

 

He can feel Cas’s smile against his skin.

 

He takes his turn petting Cas’s hair.

 

“Now who’s the sappy one?” Cas asks, cheeky and not a little smug.

 

“Hey,” Dean shrugs, “I’m a mated man, now. Things are different.”

 

Cas snorts loudly and lifts himself away so that he can hover over Dean.

 

“How so?”

 

“No more trips to the strip club, no more one night stands. Been doing too much of that lately, if you know what I m-“

 

“-you are ridiculous,” Cas laughs, swooping down to cut off Dean’s words with a quick kiss. “And a horrible influence on our daughter.”

 

Fuck. How could he have forgotten?

 

“Oh god, we’re having a girl,” he groans, letting his head fall back. “I am going to be the biggest pushover. She’s already got me wrapped around her little finger.”

 

Cas just rolls his eyes at him and shimmies down until he’s over Dean’s bump. He meets Dean’s eye questioningly when he moves to grab the blanket- seeing as Dean was freezing his ass off a half an hour ago- but when Dean nods, he moves it aside and quickly swoops in; smiling and pressing random kisses everywhere.

 

Dean lets his eyes close.

 

God he missed this.

 

How he went so long without this is beyond him, but then again he doesn’t want to think too hard on it. Everything is different now.

 

That’s his Alpha loving on their pup. He has a fucking _Alpha_ now.

 

“How’s our girl doing?”

 

Dean’s attention immediately snaps back to Cas at his voice, but at the same time, he’s kind of unsure whether or not Cas is talking to him or their pup.

 

He decides to answer just in case, opening his eyes and looking up at the ceiling. “She hasn’t been kicking much. Although I think that’s probably my fault.”

 

Cas presses his forehead to the peak of his belly. “Anything else?”

 

“Yeah,” he sighs, shaking his head in disappointment in himself. “Been throwing up a lot. I tried everything. Couldn’t keep much down.”

 

“Oh, Dean…”

 

“I know.”

 

They sit there in silence for a moment, thinking. But before Dean’s thoughts can become too dark, Cas is sitting up and smiling at him. It’s not exactly a happy smile, but it does make Dean feel a tiny bit better to see it.

 

“You should be fine to eat now, beautiful,” he murmurs. “Does anything sound good?”

 

“You not getting out of bed,” he grumbles, stopping his fingers from automatically reaching for Cas. It’s sad that that is his immediate reaction.

 

“I’ll be quick,” he says, eying Dean cautiously.

 

It’s a toss up on how he’ll react, and Cas is definitely feeling him out. But after the conversation, his worry over the pup outweighs his immediate need for Cas. His body is trying to make him feel otherwise, but he has a thin grasp over it for the moment. “Okay.”

 

Sensing Dean’s hesitation, Cas comes over to kiss him quickly, then leans down to cradle him gently to his chest. “We’ll get through this, baby. I promise. Everything is going to be okay.”

 

He closes his eyes tightly and scents his mate’s neck. Cas doesn’t make any move to pull away, so neither does Dean.

 

But apparently at the mere mention of food- more specifically, food and _Cas_ \- his appetite comes rearing back in the form of a loud growl.

 

“Okay, okay,” Cas smiles, pulling away and pecking Dean once more on the forehead. “I’ll be right back.”

 

He bites his lip as he watches Cas head for the door, when he suddenly thinks of a solution. Needs to be done anyway.

 

“Wait, Cas,” he calls.

 

“Yes?” Cas turns around.

 

“Could I maybe use your laptop? I want to skype my brother real quick. They’ll probably be worried at this point.”

 

“Of course, Dean,” Cas smiles, walking out of the room only to return with the laptop in hand. “Did you need anything else?”

 

“I think I’m good,” he takes the laptop, while staring between Cas’s legs. The dude’s still naked. And hell if that ain’t the biggest distraction.

 

Cas smirks knowingly and nods. “Alright. I’ll be back shortly.”

 

“You better be,” he sighs, shaking his head. When Cas is all the way out this time, he rolls onto his side and opens the computer.

 

Cas isn’t logged in- so his call should still be from him. He presses call then hurriedly brings the blanket up to his chin- almost forgetting that he’s still naked as well. Whoops.

 

Sam picks up after two rings, his face all up in the camera, worry clear on his face.

 

“Dean! Hey man, are you all right? You missed both our calls earlier, and that isn’t like you,” Sam states, trying and failing at hiding his accusation. “What’s up? Jess was worried you might’ve hurt yourself doing laundry or something?”

 

Damn had that only happened last night? It felt like forever ago now.

 

He sighs, suddenly feeling all the aches and pains that come with falling down a couple stairs. “Yeah. I did actually. But I’m sorry I missed your calls. A lot of shit happened and I-“

 

“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait. So you did hurt yourself doing laundry? Hold on. Jess will want to hear this…” he turns around and shouts for his mate. Jess yells that she’s coming, and then Sam is turning back to him. “What did you do, fall down the stairs?” he scoffs.

 

Jess comes in- smile on her face- right when he rolls his eyes and says, “Yeah.”

 

Sam was obviously joking, because all of the blood drains from his face and he’s leaning forwards again. Jess loses her smile instantly.

 

“You fell down the stairs? Dean. Oh my god, are you ok-“

 

Jess squeaks, “The pup, oh god.”

 

He opens his mouth to respond, to soothe, to assure them he’s fine, when Cas walks in.

 

“Dean you have a choice between pasta, a quesadilla-“ he begins, completely unaware of what’s going on. The matching shouts on the other line bring him up short.

 

_“Cas?!”_

“CAS? Is that you?”

 

Dean smiles to himself and huddles further under the covers. This was going to be a very long story, but at least he had some good news to share for once. 

 

Things were good again.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry y'all. I'm super busy. I won't quit this until I'm done with it though, so rest assured.

**Author's Note:**

> Welp.... Here goes nothing. This is my first try at writing Supernatural. This fic has been screaming at me to be unleashed. So, unleash the Kraken I shall. Mistakes are my own, but I hope you enjoy regardless ;)


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